


Serpent Mommy

by AlmaArachnidFriendEmpress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse and confronting it, Co-Parenting, Fantastic Beasts Canon Integration, Gen, Harry deserves a big loving family even if it's non-standard, Hogwarts adventures and classes, Snake mommy is best mommy!, Wholesome Happy Fun Times, growing and learning, love and care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmaArachnidFriendEmpress/pseuds/AlmaArachnidFriendEmpress
Summary: Six year old Harry, abandoned at the park one night, meets a kind talking serpent. Her name is Nagini. Once a human, once a witch, she claims. Their lives become entwined, as two destinies are altered in unexpected ways!
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	1. Boy Meets Snake

Six year old harry was both happy and scared that his aunt and uncle had left him alone at the park.

On one hand, he could play and relax as much as he wanted - but, on the other, it was getting dark, and there wasn't anyone else around!

He had been there for a long time; he tried to distract himself by playing on the swings by himself, and the slides. But soon he found himself looking around and starting to cry.

Why did they leave him?

When would they be back?

Harry wandered across the grass to sit under a big tree surrounded by bushes, pulling up his knees and resting his chin on them. He cried to himself more. It wasn't before he heard a noise, and he turned as a bush rustled.

In the dim light he saw a long, huge, glistening green scaled snake emerging.

Harry froze as its big slender head turned toward him, a long tongue flickering. "H-hi..." he whispered, shaking. "Please don't bite me, i wont hurt you! I didn't know you lived here..."

The great snake reared its head back. Then- "I don't live here. I don't live anywhere anymore..." A voice, quiet and that of a woman's, came from the snake!

"Why not?" harry asked, feeling a bit less afraid. His relatives would have said snakes couldn't talk, but this one could, and she sounded nice enough to him.

"You wouldn't under...stand." The serpent lifted her head higher, blinking at him. "Wait a moment, you can understand me?!"

"Yes?"

"You must be a wizard then, and a very special one," she mused. Her voice was excited. "How old are you, what's your name?"

"I'm six. My name's Harry, Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" She slithered closer and put her face to his body, flicking her tongue again. Her body raised up and she was on eye level with him. She was looking at his forehead. "You _are_ the baby they were all talking about," she breathed, amazed.

"I'm not a baby!"

"Of course you're not," she agreed, drawing away and nodding like a person. "That was several years ago now."

"What do you mean I'm a wizard? Like...magic?"

"Exactly. And for you to talk to me, you must have a very special gift. Only a few have ever had it over the course of centuries. It's a magic power, Harry, called parseltongue."

"Parsel...tongue?"

"That's right."

"Do you have a name?" Harry asked.

She tilted her head at him, letting out a soft laugh. "I never imagined I'd hear someone ask me that again. It's Nagini, Harry. My name is Nagini."

"I think that's a pretty name."

"I never dreamed I would hear someone call me that again either..."

"Why not? You look pretty to me!" Harry said firmly.

"Thank you, sweetie. But that's besides the point." Nagini sighed, and it sounded like a faint hiss. She lowered herself to the grass and began slithering in a circle around herself. "Magic can be useful, and so wonderful - like how it's letting us talk right now - but it can also be very dangerous. Dark magic is the most dangerous. Harry, do you read fairy tales?"

"No. My aunt and uncle never read to me..."

"Well, there are many tales about people who are cursed to be trapped as animals. There is a very famous one about a woman who became a snake - Esmeree, her name was. A welsh princess. She was trapped forever, until she received a kiss that made her human again. That one wasn't a fairy tale: it was real. And I'm the same, Harry. I'm a person, just like you, a witch to your wizard, except...I'm trapped like this now. Living as a serpent."

"if I kissed you can I make you a person again?"

Nagini shook her head at him, and set it down on her coiled body. "That's very sweet of you, but that only works in fairy tales. The real Esmeree never got a kiss; they only wrote that in afterward to make it all happier. She was a Maledictus - that's what I am. A person doomed to be stuck as an animal for the rest of their life."

"That's really sad. I bet you're really lonely now."

"Yes..." Nagini sounded like she was going to cry! "I am." she paused. "But I've found you, harry! Someone I can talk to for the first time in...so very long now! I can't believe it!"

Harry thought harder than he had in his life so far, staring down at her. "If you don't have a home anymore, and you can only talk to me 'cause of my magic...then I'll just take you home with me! You can live with me, and we can talk all the time!"

"That is incredibly compassionate of you - very, very kind - but I couldn't. Muggles would try to kill me if I went anywhere near a house, and I'm sure so would your...aunt and uncle, you said you live with. They wouldn't want me around you."

"Then we won't tell them," Harry said quickly. "We won't even let them see you! We can do it! You don't have to be alone anymore, Nagini. I wont let you be. And if you do come home with me, then I won't be lonely either!"

"How can you be lonely if you have relatives to care for you?" Nagini asked quietly.

"W-well...they don't really like me..." Harry admitted, in whisper. He leaned forward on hands and knees, putting his face close to hers. "Neither does my cousin Dudley. He likes to make fun of me a lot. And my aunt and uncle say I'm a..."

"A what?"

"A lousy good for nothing, a freaky, ungrateful, stupid-"

"Alright, enough!" Nagini hissed loudly, her head lifting high. "I never want to hear you say those things about yourself again," she went on, more calmly. "And if they want to try calling you those things again, I might just eat them."

"You can't - my uncle's really big."

"I've eaten a deer before, Harry. I'm sure I can handle digesting your fat uncle."

Harry found himself grinning a little. "You better not though, or you might get sick."

"Of course. A few nibbles, here and there, then..." Nagini sounded amused. "I'll come home with you, Harry. You won't ever have to feel lonely again. You need that more than me. No child should ever...ever feel that way. And they shouldn't ever be called such words by their family."

Harry beamed. He reached out and patted her head, then stroked her scales. "Thanks! I cant wait to show you my room, and to see the look on their faces when they see you!"

"Yes, I can't wait either," Nagini agreed. "But you'll need to find a very good spot to hide me in your room."

"I can hide you under the bed!"

"That will work, I suppose. Which way is it to your house? And why are you out here alone?" Nagini said slowly, staring at him intently. "Did your relatives...leave you out here?"

"Yes..."

A long, loud hiss and a smack of her tail against the ground. She tossed her head left and right. "I might just take the risk of eating them! What kind of horrible, disgusting, abusive excuses for human beings...Well, the abusive kind, of course," she finished, more to herself than to Harry, it seemed like (Harry had no idea what that word of hers meant - "abusive"). "Show me the way home, harry. We'll have a better chance of sneaking me into your room like this, so at least that's something..."

Harry stood, looking around. He pointed. "I think it's that way."

"All right. Start walking. Stay on the sidewalk, and we can talk while we go. I'll have to stay to the bushes and hedges, though."

"Okay!"

Harry started off, leaving the park behind with Nagini trailing after him. She was fast, really fast!

* * *

"THERE'S A GIANT SNAKE IN THE BOY'S CUPBOARD!"

"Now your freakishness has gone too far, boy!" Vernon yelled, grabbing Harry's arm and squeezing it, dragging him into the living room. "You've gone and hocus pocus'd up a bloody dangerous serpent _in our house_! Around our Dudley! How dare you try and hurt our son, hurt _us_ , after everything we've done for you!"

"I didn't _make_ Nagini, I just met her at the park when you left me there!" Harry cried, squirming.

"Now you accuse us of abandoning you out there? We had more important things to do at the time, that's all!" His aunt shrieked, furious. "If you'd had a little patience we would have come back for you! But you come back now with a giant snake?! I suppose you were going to tell it to eat us, weren't you?!"

"N-no! I told her not to! She said she wanted to but I said no!"

"What do you mean _she said no_?" Petunia shrilled.

"She talks to me 'cause I'm a w-wizard! She said I have magic and I'm special and-"

His aunt screamed. "NO! I refuse to have this in my life again! I _knew_ you were just like your damn mother and father, but _this soon_? THIS?! A freaky snake telling you this dangerous nonsense, this- NO!"

Harry stared. "My p-parents were m-magic?"

"Don't you dare use words like that in this house!" his uncle yelled, shaking Harry hard. "Magic is not _real_ , and _you_ are _not_ some- you know what! I won't hear those words again, do you understand me?! Or I'll beat it into you until you've gotten the point!"

"But it's t-true, she talks, she said-"

"SNAKES. DON'T. TALK!" His uncle's fist flew out, smacking Harry in the head.

"OW! She's not a snake she's a person!" Harry cried, sniffling, tearing up and cowering, holding his head.

A loud hissing, a surge of motion, violent and furious across the floor, and then Nagini hurled herself at Harry's uncle! They fell together, her massive body twisting around his, wrapping up his arms as he tried to hit her, to shove her away. Her jaws snapped in his face, her head reared and her eyes fixed on his throat-

"Nagini please don't!" Harry cried, begging. "Please don't hurt him, just don't hurt them! L-let's just go back to our room, please!"

Nagini froze. But she was still poised to strike. Vernon was terrified, laying on the floor with his arms still wrapped up in powerful muscles of a giant serpent. "Tell them that I'm staying with you. Tell them you're going to have the second bedroom upstairs, now. Tell them that they're going to tell everyone else that I'm an exotic family pet. And tell them...that if they ever hit you again, I will eat them in their sleep. Tell them _you are_ a wizard, and you'll use your magic if they don't do what I say."

Harry did his best to repeat it all to his relatives.

He watched their faces go from terrified to furious, and then terrified again. And finally, resigned.

"F-fine! FINE, if you want to use your freakish powers to steal _more_ from us," his aunt snapped, her lower lip trembling. "To steal a room from our Dudley...It's just like you magic folks! You'll keep that m-magic _monster_ of yours up there at all times, I wont have it in the rest of the house! Or we won't give you the room at all! There w-will be no _talking snakes_ around the rest of us! And when Dudley gets back home, you are _never_ to say even a word about talking _snakes_ to him! I won't have you dragging him into this!"

Harry looked at Nagini.

"Tell her I'll accept those terms. I don't want to be around them any more than they do me," Nagini replied.

"She says that's...ok with her."

"Then get up there, NOW," Petunia hissed. "And you're going to clean every inch of it before using it!"

Harry ran upstairs. Nagini unwrapped herself from his uncle, and slithered after him swiftly. He entered the second bedroom, _his_ bedroom now, with disbelief, shutting the door firmly behind him (after letting Nagini in all the way). He went to the dusty bed and sat down on it with a smile.

He laid down properly, sprawled; Nagini slithered up onto the bed beside him, pressing herself to his side.

"I can't believe you got me this," Harry voiced to her gratefully - sincerely. "Thank you!"

"You should have had this all along - and we weren't going to stay in the _cupboard,_ " Nagini replied with passion - and _compassion_. "Don't thank me for getting you what they should have given you from the start."

"Ok," Harry sighed happily. He rolled onto one side and he kissed her on the snout. "But still thanks," he added swiftly, grinning.

"You..." Nagini shook her head at him, then nuzzled his side with her nose.


	2. Five Years Past

In early June, ten year old Harry raced back to Number Four, Privet Drive from school in a bout of excitement.

He stopped to open and close the front door quietly, and then go on up the stairs just as quietly - but as soon as he was in his room, he bounded across it and threw his bag onto the bed (and himself).

"Why are you so excited today?" Nagini lifted her head, coiled up in the corner of the room, between dresser and wall. She crossed the room and joined him on the bed, gazing at him with a long head cocked to one side.

"This is why!" Harry dug into his bag and triumphantly presented a stack of papers to her.

Nagini eyed the top paper - nodded. "Show me the rest," she spoke, warm and pleased.

Harry did, shuffling the papers before spreading them all out on the bed covers. He sat back with his legs crossed, hands in his lap, watching Nagini as she looked the papers over more intently - all of them.

"You did a very good job," she said at last, looking to him with...a glimmer in those eyes of hers (or maybe it was just her usual glinting black serpent eyes).

"Way better than Dudley," Harry added, grinning.

"That doesn't matter," Nagini told him. "What matters is that you did your best this year, and this is the result - a result I'm proud of you for. _Because you did it,_ not because you beat your cousin's marks." She paused, her tongue flickering out with a little hiss. "But, I'm also proud of you for that, too - again - if you really need to hear it, Harry," she added, soft.

"I did, thanks!" Harry beamed, leaning forward to kiss her face.

Nagini shook her head, then darted up toward his face to bump her snout to his cheek; Harry didn't flinch at the sudden burst of motion - but he did blush. "You're welcome, then. Come - why don't we celebrate." She moved across the bed, falling down onto the floor and heading for the door.

"How're we going to celebrate?" Harry questioned, following after her even so.

"Your relatives still have that ice cream left; they won't mind if we take it out with us into the back yard," Nagini replied, as she slipped out through the cracked open bedroom door (giving a bit of a toss of her powerful head to open it wider).

"I'm pretty sure they will," Harry responded, laughing.

"Well, they can't complain about it," Nagini amended, moving down the hall. Harry had to walk a little faster to keep up with her (being a magical snake did have its benefits, she had told him once or twice in life before).

Harry and Nagini often went into the back yard, to spend time together there. With its high wooden fencing, nobody could catch any sight of her and cause trouble about it (Harry's aunt and uncle allowed it, because the alternative was Nagini and Harry going right out _the_ _front door_ together to go find some place to hang out at; at least in the back, they were out of sight of everyone).

Harry swiftly entered the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to take out the two-thirds gone ice cream tub (and a spoon from a drawer), and then moved on out into the bright sun and nice grass of the back yard.

He walked right out into the middle of the yard before sitting down, ice cream set aside; Nagini encircled him with her lengthy body, setting her chin on his leg and gazing into the ice cream tub.

Harry scooped up a bit of it and offered it to her with a grin. "Bet you just wanted me to get it for _you_ , bringing me out here and all..."

"For both of us," Nagini answered, opening her mouth and tilting her head back. Harry carefully let the food fall into her mouth, then took another scoop for himself. "But, with your birthday coming up again soon, we'll get you a whole cake - just for you."

"My aunt and uncle won't like having to buy one again for me."

"They'll do it again anyway," Nagini stated. "I have many ways to make them."

"You do," Harry agreed, laughing. He admired her for that - he loved her for that. For everything she ever did for him, everything she'd ever pushed for him, in all the ways she could (even with her cursed serpent's body). Nagini was always doing her best never to let it stop her. Stop her from...being there for him, almost like...well, like a real _parent._ A much better one than his aunt or uncle! Harry often imagined his mum would be a lot like Nagini - except she wouldn't be a snake, of course. Not that Harry minded that Nagini was (she couldn't help it, after all)!

"Still..." Harry muttered.

"No, 'still,'" Nagini said firmly. "What they think or feel, or want when it comes to you doesn't _matter._ Only what _I_ think, and feel, and want for you matters! They lost that right the second they ever thought to put you in that cupboard - the first time they ever hit you, or called you a name! If I had arms and legs again I would take you away from here and make a new home for you elsewhere..." she mourned.

"Well, I'm real happy you're here!" Harry said quickly. He wanted to avoid one of those times, rare times, where Nagini would get very negative and stressed about herself, and her situation - and _his._ Sometimes it lasted hours, and the worst times...the worst had been a period of three days, in which she had curled herself up in the bottom of the closet and hadn't responded to anything. "You've done loads for me - more than they ever have! Than anybody. I love having somebody to talk to, I love how you always just...you _care_. You're the closest thing to a mum I've got - ever had."

"Thank you, Harry. You're incredibly kind."

"So are you."

"It's my duty, as the closest thing to a mother you have. Because no one else is trying for you."

* * *

"Aunt Petunia, I want you to drive us to London in a few hours - me and Nagini."

Harry's aunt glared at him in the kitchen. Her gaze slid down to the thick envelop clutched in his hand - the crest on it. The letter Harry had just gotten the other day, one morning in middle of July.

"Of course, you'll be wanting to go off and get all sorts of weirdo supplies for that damn _school,_ " His aunt snapped. "Just the same as Lily; mummy and daddy were just so excited to take her to that freakish alley..." She trailed off, then renewed her glare at him. "Before you threaten to set that monster of yours on me, I will agree to take you there!" she went on furiously. "But I'm not waiting around, or holding your hand while you go into that place - you'll find your own way back here. I imagine those... _magic folks_ have plenty of ways to do that for you."

Harry nodded with relief. "Alright. Thank you," he said diplomatically. He knew already from long talks (interrogations, more like) with Nagini that mages _did_ have a few ways of getting around instantly, across continents and oceans if they had to. Going from London to Surrey wasn't going to be a problem - he would just have to find someone to ask about it. Nagini would probably know someone already. She was good about that, knowing things. Knowing just what to say, what Harry needed, how to get things for him...even just being there for him in his bed at nights, warming him.

Harry about-faced and left the kitchen, going through the hall and up the stairs. Into his room. "My aunt said she'll drive us there, but we have to find our own way back."

"There are ways," Nagini assured immediately - just like Harry had thought! "It won't be a problem for us."

"Are you, err, sure you can come too?" Harry questioned. "I know your- _body_ is a magical snake's, but...do wizards and witches really just keep great big snakes like you as pets?"

"When magic is involved, it's much easier to keep and contain dangerous or exotic creatures," Nagini answered lightly. "People will hardly bat an eye if you tell them I'm a pet - a _real_ serpent like me would be on the very low end of the danger spectrum. Trust me, Harry: I had a friend once, who kept anything from Nifflers to Nundu's in a briefcase without any trouble." She paused, and laughed a hissing laugh. "Well, all right, a great deal of trouble - it was how I met him, actually - but you understand my point!"

"Who was this friend?" Harry asked eagerly. Nagini rarely ever said anything about her past - not her time as a serpent before meeting him, and definitely not her human life before that. Harry only had a vague idea that it had been a long time ago for her...and that she didn't like it. Either portion of her life. She only seemed to like the part of her life that had started with him, five years ago now. She had even told him once that she felt like she _had_ a real life again, with him. Caring for him.

Nagini went very still, her head drooping unconsciously. "Never mind that. You're all that matters to me now, Harry. Let's get ready to go - we'll write a letter back to Hogwarts when we get back this evening; the owl should be here by then to take it."

"Ok," Harry agreed, sighing. He'd been so close! At least it had been something happy, it sounded like; the way _Nagini_ had sounded...it had been nice.

* * *

"Do you want me to tell everyone you're a pet? Couldn't I just say you're a Maledictus?" Harry said lowly, after hurrying from the curb into the dark pub (to keep anyone from seeing Nagini and making a scene about her).

"I don't need the attention," Nagini replied quietly, as the door shut behind them. "Maledictus sentiments might have changed over the years, but I don't need _pity_ any more than I need..." She trailed off again, her voice catching. She shook her head firmly in a very human way. "Don't even use that word to anyone, Harry."

"Ok, I won't!" Harry promised, earnest and whispered.

"Thank you," Nagini said softly, warmth to her voice. "There is also another sort of attention that I don't need from mages..."

"What kind of attention?"

"Forget about that. Let's get you into the alley - ask someone for help."

Harry sighed and nodded, scanning the pub until he found someone who looked approachable enough. "E-excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me get into Diagon Alley? I'm starting my first year at Hogwarts, you see..." he began talking to a woman in blue robes.

The woman in the robes eyed him kindly. Her eyes found Nagini, and widened. She put a hand to her chest. "Oh my - a young wizard your age, and you're keeping a snake like that as a pet?"

"Erm, yes, ma'am - she's very well trained," Harry hastened to reply.

"Yes, they are meant to be very intelligent sorts, and loyal to their owners..." The witch trailed off. She nodded. "Well, dear, let's get you into the alley. What's her name, by the way? And yours?"

"Err, her name's Nagini - and I'm Harry. Harry- Dursley," he uttered the last name as best he could. Nagini had told him all about his fame, a year ago - about _why_ he was famous. His parents' actions, their deaths, the Dark Lord Voldemort's downfall and defeat. His survival of a curse that had never once left anyone alive. The speculation that that was the reason he had the scar on his forehead, shaped like lightning. A remnant of a dark curse that failed to kill.

Harry didn't want all the attention of being famous, not for a reason like that. So he had taken Nagini's advice, to use a name besides his own today.

Although he knew why he was famous, knew about his parents now, Nagini hadn't been able to tell him anything beyond generalities when it came to Harry's parents. Only what everyone else knew about them.

Nothing about their lives, nothing _personal_.

Harry hoped he could fix that soon; Nagini had suggested that he could ask the teachers at Hogwarts, and even find old friends of theirs they must have had, to learn more about them. That was a large reason for Harry's excitement to finally enter this magical world.

Harry and Nagini followed the witch out behind the pub, where he watched the woman take out a magic wand and tap it to the brick wall; the bricks began to shift and change, and it opened up into a crowded series of narrow, winding streets lined with shops!

"Well, there you are," the woman said, putting her wand away and going back into the pub.

Harry glanced down to Nagini, a big smile taking over his face. "I can't believe this is real."

"Believe it," she replied, amused. "Head for the far end of the alley. We can take our time, though," she added. "Take as long as you want."

Harry stepped into the alley, fully intent on doing so!


	3. Hogwarts And Answers

In King's Cross Station, Harry pushed his trolley through the barrier between Platform nine and ten, successfully crossing into Platform 9 3/4.

Harry moved through the crowds, families and students, making his way toward the Hogwarts Express. He struggled with the large closed box atop his school trunk, trying to get it into the train car (he wouldn't have told her, but Nagini was _heavy_ ). He succeeded after a great effort, then he got his trunk inside as well.

He stepped into the train car proper, and dragged the box into the nearest empty compartment, right by the exit. He went back for his trunk, hefting it easier by the handle, and set it down in the middle of the compartment.

Sweating and puffing, Harry closed the door and sat on the seats.

"We made it," he huffed. "You can come on out now."

The top of the box opened up, and Nagini's head emerged. "I'm sorry about all of that - I just don't want to be seen until we get to Hogwarts."

"It's alright," Harry said. Even if he didn't understand _why_ she was so set on not being seen by anyone, he was still going to do his best to help her with it.

* * *

Despite his best efforts to hide himself, Harry still somehow got attention from his fellow students.

Word had spread through the train that Harry Potter was in this carriage, in this very specific compartment.

People would walk up and down the train, passing by just to get a look at him. A few brave ones actually spoke to him - mostly just introductions and welcomes. Excitement abound.

Harry was nervous, but he did his best to be polite and pleasant to people. They were going to be his future classmates after all. And as long as none of them were like his cousin, he didn't really mind it.

Of course, there _was_ one like his cousin.

A Draco Malfoy, and two other boys, Crabbe and Goyle.

On introducing himself, Malfoy had given Harry a warning about "being friends with the wrong sort" of wizards and witches. Harry had refused to shake the boy's hand, disliking him instantly, and replying back with, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," Malfoy had said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same was as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either."

Harry had jumped up at this, his hands turning to fists. At the same time, Nagini had chosen that moment to emerge from her box again with a sharp hiss.

Malfoy had paled, backing away. "W-what is _that?_ "

"My magical serpent," Harry had replied casually. "Looks like you woke her up - she gets cranky when you do that."

Malfoy had fled the compartment, his two goons trailing after him.

Harry sat down again, blowing a breath and grinning at Nagini. "Thanks - sorry for saying that about you, by the way."

"It's okay," she had said simply, light and amused.

When they finally arrived at Hogsmeade village, Nagini had Harry go and ask an older student - a Prefect - to cast an invisibility spell on her (with the excuse that Harry didn't want her freaking anyone out if they saw her - which, to be fair, had already happened a few times now).

Not completely invisible, but more than good enough if you weren't looking too closely at the ground.

And in the dark of the platform, it was practically complete anyway.

Harry tried to walk casually, trailing at the back of the group of first year students. He also tried not to step on or trip over Nagini beside him.

Getting into a boat was a challenge - he had to sit with an invisible Nagini coiled up in his lap, careful not to give it away to the other two students in the boat with him.

His first view of Hogwarts came, and Harry was mesmerized by it all.

"It hasn't changed..." came the quiet hissing from his lap, under cover of the other first years ooh'ing and ahh'ing around him.

Nagini had been to Hogwarts before? Had she gone to school here, too? Harry wished he could have asked her about it, but that would have given her away.

He would have to wait a bit longer to get answers.

After crossing the lake they exited the boats, and went up to the school.

Into the great castle, the Entrance Hall.

A stern-looking witch in green robes greeted them, introducing herself as Professor McGonagall. She went on with explaining about the Houses, the point system, and the dormitories and such.

After the Professor had finished, she left them there with a promise to return in a few minutes.

Nagini nudged Harry's foot invisibly. The quietest of words under cover of the students chattering around them. "I'll stay out here and watch your sorting. After that, we can get Albus's- Headmaster Dumbledore's attention."

Harry glanced down at the rippling air near his foot. She knew the Headmaster of Hogwarts? On a first name basis? Harry had read a bit about his notable accomplishments on back of a Chocolate Frog card on the train ride. To think that she knew someone like that so personally...

Harry's curiosity was reaching its peak now about his scaly mother-figure!

Professor McGonagall returned, and led them all into the Great Hall at last.

A place of wonder and warmth, and a feeling in the air.

Long tables, students all along them.

And the night sky above, somehow.

Professor McGonagall had them all wait in front of the head table, and a single rickety wooden stool. An old tattered hat sat atop it, and then its brim opened up and it began to _sing!_

After the song, the Professor explained that they would be putting on the Sorting Hat, and began calling names off a long roll of parchment.

It was last name, alphabetical.

When Harry's name finally came up, whispers and pointing erupted through the hall.

He tried to ignore it all as he went up to sit on the stool.

Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head.

A voice in his ear, the Hat.

"Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, and you don't have a bad mind, either. But it's your determination to exercise that mind that interests me...not a bad fit for Ravenclaw. Even if it is solely to get the approval and affections of your...tragically afflicted mother figure. Though, you do enjoy learning for learning's sake, don't you? That could still go to Ravenclaw. And then there's your obvious empathy and compassion, that which led you to apologize to a snake at the age of six for intruding on her 'home,' or so you believed at the time, as well as what led you to call Nagini off from the very relatives abusing you in life - you could be a boundless Hufflepuff, you know. Although..."

The hat paused, humming to himself. "I believe where you would truly excel...is Slytherin. You don't only have the drive to do well - ambition by another name - nor do you solely have courage - but you also have a very cunning mind that your courage sees carried out. Really, leveraging Nagini against your relatives all these years so shamelessly, bringing her here under invisibility spells - coming up with that story to the Prefect to get him to go along with it...it's impressive, very impressive, all of it. And all for rather righteous, emotional reasons, as well...Yes, that is the mark of a good Slytherin, indeed. And a _good Slytherin_."

"Not Slytherin," Harry pleaded. "Not Slytherin, please..."

"And where has that courage gone now? You'd refuse the House that would fit you best simply to avoid being around young Mr. Malfoy?"

"Any House but Slytherin," Harry insisted.

"Are you sure? Mr. Malfoy is hardly going to be the only student in your year, in your dormitory. Plenty of other children there could benefit from becoming your friend - and you, from becoming theirs. You've never had friends, have you? Not in those muggle schools...Well, this is your chance."

"I can make friends anywhere, I'm sure," Harry said quickly, murmuring. "Please just put me somewhere else..."

"Even as you argue with me, you display Slytherin qualities!" The Hat huffed. "It's obvious where you belong."

"No, just- put me in Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff!"

"Well, if you really want to narrow yourself down like that...let me see, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff...Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff...?"

"Either of them is good with me."

"Oh, I know. Your heart and soul are wondrous things, even for a boy your age. So let's say...HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry sighed with relief, taking off the hat and muttering, "Thank you."

He thought he heard a quiet, "You're welcome," before he set it on the stool again.

Harry went to the Hufflepuff table, to cheers and clapping. Not just from that table, though, but from the other three too. He looked to the Slytherin table, grateful not to have to go there; he thought they looked like a rather unpleasant lot. But then, he thought better of it - if everyone judged Nagini for _her_ first appearance...

Harry frowned at himself. Most of them really didn't look too bad - more of them were clapping for him and smiling than weren't, he noted firmly. Malfoy might not have been, or his two cronies, but that didn't mean much of anything.

Maybe that House would have been all right after all...

Harry regretted his arguing with the Hat now, a little.

But he couldn't re-sort himself, could he?

He had to stick with where he was now.

He hoped Nagini would be happy about it.

They had a big feast after the sorting finished.

Harry focused on eating, even as some of his classmates focused on _him._

"Hi, I'm Hannah," spoke a girl on his left, quick and breathy, with blonde pigtails and a pale face.

"Hi," Harry replied. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Hannah's eyes went to his forehead, then to his face again. "I know! I mean, almost everyone knows!"

"Of course they do," said another girl, with a long plait of dirty blonde hair. She smiled at Harry. "I'm Susan - Susan Bones. It's nice to meet you, Harry." She extended a hand to him.

Harry took it, shaking her hand once before quickly letting go. "Nice to meet you, too," he said sincerely.

He was able to get back to his food after that, until he'd stuffed himself. When dessert came, he couldn't eat much of it.

The Headmaster, Dumbledore, stood and led them all in the school's song, after which the first years were told to follow their House prefects to their dormitories.

Harry trailed behind his classmates, and the Prefect (an older girl named Christina Lynn), as they passed into the Entrance Hall again. He stopped, lingering there until he felt the invisible sensation of something running across his shoes. He crouched down, pretending to tie it, and said quickly, "Are we going to talk to the Headmaster now?"

"Yes," was all Nagini said, in a subdued tone. Much quieter than even her usual, quiet tones. "Go and tell him you want to talk to him in his office, please."

"Ok," Harry nodded, straightening. He looked back into the Great Hall, past the students flooding out, and started off for that high table, where the teachers were still sitting about - conversing about.

"Why hello, Mr. Potter," spoke a stout woman - Professor Sprout, he had been told. His Head of House now. She gave him a warm, prideful look. "Congratulations on making it into my House! We're all so glad to have you here with us."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied earnestly. He looked to the Headmaster, drawing breath. "Err- Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, I was wondering if I couldn't talk to you about something up in your office?"

Dumbledore's eyes took Harry in - did they flicker toward the floor, at one point? He smiled at Harry. "Of course, my dear boy. I'm happy to discuss whatever you like; but we shouldn't take too long - you have a trunk and a wonderfully crafted bed waiting for you in your dormitory."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded.

Dumbledore strode around the table, and he led the way out of the Great Hall, his colorful robes sweeping impressively.

Before Harry turned to follow him, he saw one of the other teachers giving him a very strange look - a look that was almost like the ones his relatives gave him. He didn't think the man liked him very much, for whatever reason. The man with black robes and a hooked nose, and long stringy black hair.

* * *

After going up to the Headmaster's office - behind a gargoyle statue, up a spiral staircase - and getting seated at the desk, Dumbledore was the one to break the silence.

"I'd venture a guess at the obvious and say that what you wish to discuss with me will sufficiently explain the large, invisible magical serpent you have by your chair there," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

Harry glanced down, then up at Dumbledore. "How can you...?"

"Oh, when you become as old as I am, you tend to see magic wherever it is - even if that magic is concealing itself," Dumbledore replied, still so cheery. So casual. "A very useful, very honed sense - a skill few wizards and witches have bothered trying to even understand, let alone master."

"I'm sorry, sir, it's just that she- she asked me to- she doesn't like attention, and I-" Harry hesitated, then blurted it out. "She's a Maledictus, sir!"

Dumbledore drew out a long, thin wand, giving it an absent wave; Nagini materialized at Harry's feet, the invisibility leaving her like paint dripping off a canvas sheet. He stood from his desk, walking around it. He crouched down in front of Nagini without fear, simply gazing at her. "I see. And for a young wizard like yourself to be able to communicate with her as she is, in this unfortunate state...you are a parselmouth, aren't you, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "I am."

Dumbledore scrutinized Nagini further, tilting his head this way and that. "The odds of a Maledictus whose cursed form was that of a serpent encountering a parselmouth...quite the stroke of good fortune. May I ask your name, dear?" he spoke to her politely.

Harry looked down at Nagini, who looked up at him. "Err, it's-"

"Ah, forgive me," Dumbledore held up a hand, a smile on his face again. "Another stroke of good fortune - I'm fluent in parseltongue, as it so happens. Though I cannot speak it; that ability is magical, and incredibly rare. Learning how to understand it was, itself alone, a long and arduous undertaking - but it was well worth it, in the end..."

Nagini gazed up at Dumbledore, then drooped her head. "It's Nagini..." she whispered, with a faint hiss.

Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes widened behind those spectacles of half-moon. "Ahhh...I _had_ thought your coloration was a familiar sight, but I never could have dreamed...Nagini, dear, it's so wonderful to see you again - but, of course, a pity for you to be in this form," he went on somberly. "I'm terribly sorry."

"You know her, sir?" Harry asked, staring from one to the other. Then, he just stared flat out at Nagini.

Nagini turned her head away from him, drooping further. "I once did my part in an old war against a very dark, very powerful wizard," she spoke quietly, very strained. "But I'm afraid I never made much of a difference, did I...? Not like this..."

Dumbledore reached out to touch her face. Her cheek - he cupped it, remarkably like you would a person's. "Dear Nagini, you were absolutely _invaluable_ to the war efforts, _because of your form_. You turned your curse into a gift, a weapon of justice and protection. And still you continue to protect young wizards in this world - young Harry here! You are still a remarkably compassionate woman. No one can doubt that you have a human soul. You would never have acted as you did for Credence otherwise...or Newt, or any of the others. You freed yourself, and you fought well and good, and true. And in the end, because of your contributions...we did bring an end to that terrible time."

"What war, sir? How long ago was it?" Harry asked, curious. He hadn't ever known Nagini had fought in a magical war! Let alone been a really important part of it. But now he was getting some real answers about her past, after so long.

"Alas, it would have been around fifty years ago now, when I was a much younger man," Dumbledore said, thoughtful. "Time does move quite quickly for us all, doesn't it? Particularly when we look back on it..."

Harry stared at Nagini. "I didn't know you were so old."

Her head whipped around with a hiss, her tongue flickering.

Harry cringed, blushing. "I'm s-sorry! I didn't mean to be so-"

"Oh, yes, I am old," Nagini interrupted, sounding almost startled. As if she'd never considered it before now. "But how old am I?"

"Quite the sprightly eighty-five, I would say," Dumbledore answered. "We mages live far longer, far healthier than muggles," he elaborated, at Harry's baffled expression. "And with that form, why, I would say the effects of aging would not be nearly so apparent regardless...Perhaps a small blessing?"

"A small one," Nagini spoke, nodding her head. Traces of humor were present, joy in her voice.

Harry supposed it must be wonderful to know you had _two people_ to talk to again, now. Two people who could understand you.

One of them an old friend!

"You were quite right, Harry," Dumbledore spoke, standing up tall. "There are matters of importance we must discuss together. Now more than before."


	4. Introductions And Meetings

"There is an enchantment, a protection around that house of Number Four, your mother's love and blood tied to the blood of her sister - your aunt. It is this protection that ensures that Voldemort, nor anyone with ill intent toward you, Harry, is able to enter and harm you."

Nagini gave a sharp hiss, a spitting noise. "What does this protection do about people inside the house trying to hurt him?"

Dumbledore eyed her, then, Harry. "Has someone in that house been...hurting you?"

"Not since Nagini showed up in my life," Harry said quickly, flushed.

Dumbledore averted his gaze, sighing heavily. "How long has she been in your life?"

"Five years."

"I owe you a great apology," Dumbledore said. "And my sincerest regrets. For you see, it was I who made the decision to place you with your aunt and uncle, ten years ago now. At the time, the war had just ended, and many of Voldemort's most loyal supporters were still out there. Many would have found you if they could, killed you if they could have. Avenged their fallen master. So I put you with your blood relatives, your mother's sister, and ensured a protection would live on around them for you. I never met Petunia, haven't spoken a word with her in many years now. But it was my hope, my basic expectation, that she would of course treat you like a nephew. Like a son. I'm terribly sorry to hear she hasn't at all..."

"You could have been doing more," Nagini hissed. "Did you ever once check on him, Albus? If you had, you would have known I was there much sooner - so I think you didn't."

"I do in fact have someone placed nearby to monitor the situation," Dumbledore replied calmly. "This person did inform me that Harry had acquired a pet serpent, though they never got a glimpse of you. I do recall being told your name in a letter, but I never connected the facts until this evening, seeing you again in person."

"And the facts about Harry's life?" Nagini pressed. "You left him to suffer, you left him to hurt and cry, and you never stepped in to change it. You didn't help him. I had to help him, I had to step in and change it for him! I was happy to! Were you happy to not? Just like you were happy to not have to face Grindelwald for as long as possible while people _suffered_ around you!"

Dumbledore gazed at her in shock, then he sat at his desk and put his head in his hands. "Was that why...? Why you disappeared near the end of the war, Nagini? Because you felt like I wasn't...?"

"That was a part of it," Nagini answered quietly. "The other part was myself. This body, this condition. After it became permanent, I still stayed, and I did my best for all of you - but I came to a point where I couldn't any more. So I left. I'm not proud of myself for it; I'm more ashamed of abandoning my friends than you probably are over _this_...with Harry."

"Well, I won't deny your accusations. I was a coward, I did refuse, stay away, far longer than I should have. And people did suffer for it. If young Harry has suffered again because of my keeping a distance...I'm afraid I repeat my mistakes, with a great cost. I can only beg forgiveness - and do my best to make amends."

"How?" Nagini asked softly. "Tell me how you're going to fix this for Harry."

Dumbledore lifted his head, setting his hands on the desk. "Of course. I thank you for being there for him how I wasn't, how I should have been, far more than I ever was. I think the situation is in hand, at present; Harry is safe at Hogwarts, and will be so, for the next year. In this time, I will alert the Ministry to the situation, and look into finding him a suitable new home. A place of protection, and of care and love, and happiness."

"She can come with me, can't she?" Harry asked suddenly. Fearfully. "I'm not going anywhere unless she gets to be there too!"

"That is another problem we need to discuss," Dumbledore sighed. "I take it, dear Nagini, that your wish is to remain out of the public's eye, even still? Would that change if it would help Harry? Help you to help him?"

"It would," Nagini replied, an edge to her voice. "But how could it?"

"Well, I will say that now that I know you aren't a mere pet, it's quite inappropriate for an adult woman to stay in the same dorm room as a group of boys - especially if they've no idea that she is a woman. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I can sleep in the common room. I'm as good as his mother, I'm not going to stay away from him now."

Dumbledore gave an apologetic look. "Yet not even parents would be allowed to take up residence in the common room, not even for their children. We could, of course, easily find spare quarters for you inside this castle - but that will have to be as close as you can get."

"I'll accept that," Nagini agreed, after a moment's thought. "You honestly think it's necessary for me to reintroduce myself to the world?"

"If you want to continue playing an active part in Harry's life - yes. A true, legal, honest part in it. If you could meet with the Ministry, if we could announce you to the world again, you could petition for certain legal positions in Harry's life. You could have a real status, in regards to him. Not parenthood, not motherhood, unfortunately - your form makes you dramatically unsuited to physical care of a child; I doubt the Ministry would grant you that, sadly - but something just as substantial. Many Maledictus have chosen to remain active in the world, remain with family and friends, trying their best even in their new forms, as you might know. You could choose to do the same, for Harry, if you truly wish it."

"I'll do it," Nagini said firmly. "For Harry."

"Then here is what we will do..." Dumbledore began.

* * *

On his first day of real lessons at Hogwarts, Harry woke up in his dorm room feeling terrible. Queasy.

Harry had grown so used to having Nagini in his bed with him that he couldn't really remember different. To have had to go to bed without her next to him had been...just terrible. Cold and empty. Wanting.

He walked out of his dorm room feeling incredibly lost - and lonely. Nagini always knew what to do, where to go, she was always there. But she wasn't right now. He just wanted to see her again. But after those talks with the Headmaster the other night, he knew he wouldn't be able to see her until later _this evening_ ; Nagini was going to be as busy as him today. Especially this morning.

"Hi Harry!" a chipper girl's voice greeted him as he entered the Hufflepuff common room.

It was that girl from the feast, Susan. "Hello, Susan," Harry greeted her politely.

"You don't look so good," the girl remarked.

"Thanks," Harry said, sarcastic. "Is it just you, or has everybody else here noticed it too?"

"It's probably not just me," Susan stated bluntly. "But it's okay! Did you not sleep well?"

"No," Harry agreed, strained. "I didn't."

"I'm really sorry," Susan said, sincere. "Can I do something to help?"

"Not really, no," Harry said.

Susan's face was crossed with a frown. "Oh...okay. Sure. Bye, then." She hurried off with pink cheeks.

Harry sighed, immediately feeling awful about that remark of his. He really needed to think before he said things, didn't he?

He headed for the common room entrance, and almost ran right into someone else. Another girl his age, with bright blue eyes and dark hair tied back in a ponytail. She startled, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and snapping her gaze to him.

"Oh, sorry!" Harry exclaimed. If he remembered the Sorting Ceremony well enough, she was... "Tamara Wilkes?" he guessed, hoping he was right.

The girl stared at him, unfocused, her eyes jittering left and right around his face. Then she gave an enthusiastic nod and a smile. And then, she brought her hands up, and began to make these quick motions - intricate signals and gestures.

Harry eyed her right back, bewildered. Then he heard a sweet, quick, and monotone girl's voice echoing around him from seemingly nowhere.

"That's me. Who're you?" that disembodied voice asked.

"Err...Harry Potter." Harry blinked. "Was that...you? That voice?" he went on to ask.

Tamara's eyes flickered about again, strangely. Then, a quick motion of Tamara's hands, and that voice came again, plain and flat. "It was me. It's magic." She reached into the pocket of her robes, pulling out a purple...it looked like an egg, with puffy purple lips attached to its surface. She waved it about, then made a quick gesture with one hand. The egg pulsed with light, and those lips began to _move!_ "See?" the voice came, but not directly from those lips - still from all around Harry. Tamara dropped it into her pocket again, and did some more gesturing, more patterns with her hands. "It's a magic device that turns signing into vocal languages. It can't express emotions, and it only works if it's close to me. It also doesn't exactly translate words or phrases - it fudges things, most of the time. It has to, really. But it works amazingly; it's magic, and I can't complain."

"Signing?" Harry asked, curious.

Tamara swiftly moved her hands again. And again the voice was heard. "It's how people who can't talk with their mouths communicate - whether they're just mute, or deaf, like I am. Deaf means you can't hear, by the way. Of course, coming into this world and having magic...it really opens things up for me in ways I never dreamed. If I wanted to just walk up and talk to you like this before, I would have had to write to you - or you could have tried to learn sign language too."

"Oh, so you were...you live in the muggle world?" Harry ventured. He wondered privately what it was even like to live like her, to not be able to hear; he'd wondered often enough as well, what it was like to live as Nagini did, without arms or legs!

Tamara gave an exaggerated nod and a big smile. "I'm what people here call a 'muggle-born', yes. My parents aren't magical, and I didn't know I was until a couple of months ago."

Harry nodded. "So that thing lets me know what you're saying - in that, erm, sign language? - but how do you know what I'm saying if you can't hear me?"

Tamara reached into her pocket again, pulling out a long, rainbow-colored writing quill. It was shimmering and glowing all sorts of colors, shifting through them one by one. "This," she signed, her face shining with excitement in contrast to the monotone voice. "It's another magic device. It lets me see people's spoken words around me in written form, generally beside their heads or above them, and for whoever I'm focused on specifically, it shows up in front of them in conversations. It's very intuitive."

"That's amazing," Harry said.

Tamara slid the quill into her pocket, giving a fond pat. "It is, isn't it? I love magic. I had no idea they made things like this for people like me. But I'm happy they have."

"Me too," Harry said earnestly. "Erm, so- do you want to go to breakfast?"

Tamara's eyes scanned the air in front of Harry's face again - something that made so much more sense now (she was reading magical words!). She gave another nod, then grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the dormitories.

Harry flushed, and went along with it. He took back his hand when they came to the entrance hall, however, very quickly as eyes turned to them.

Harry felt a bit better now, sitting down in the Great Hall at Hufflepuff's table; he felt a lot better after actually eating; and he felt even better than _that_ after spending his time throughout talking with Tamara - and apologizing to Susan over earlier (the girl accepted it, fair and easy, and with a wave of an airy hand).

Harry was happy to note that not too many eyes stayed on him throughout breakfast. But he was more than a little unhappy to realize just who was drawing everyone's attention away from him.

Up at the high table, coiled in front of it, was Nagini.

Near the end of breakfast, a small group entered the Great Hall - people in blue robes, and others who had quills and parchment, and strange cameras. Those cameras were already being used, emitting puffs of purple smoke with every click of a button.

"Who are they?" Harry spoke up in alarm.

It was Susan who answered him. "The ones in blue are Aurors - like muggle policemen; they work for the Ministry to enforce the law, and catch dark mages - and the rest are reporters for the Daily Prophet. But I don't understand why they're all here just for a magical snake. But the professors seem to think it's not dangerous...maybe it's someone's lost pet? Snakes aren't allowed - at least, I didn't think they were..."

"Potter, didn't people say _you_ had a magical snake on the train?" spoke a boy from across the table. Harry couldn't remember his name.

Susan looked at Harry - as did Tamara.

Harry flushed, nodding. "Y-yeah, I did. She's...it's complicated."

Dumbledore stood up from the head table, coming around to greet the Ministry officials.

"Students, if I could have your attention before you go on to begin your first lessons of this wonderful year," he began clearly, jovial. "I'm sure many of you are wondering about the situation that we have here today. I would be happy to explain it to you all; I'm sure it will be a wonderful learning experience for many of you as well. Now then, how many of you have heard the term 'Maledictus?' How many of you are aware of what this means?"

More than a few hands were raised.

Dumbledore smiled, pointing to an older Slytherin girl, tall and lanky with dark skin and darker hair in a frazzle. "Ah, Miss Rouche, if you wouldn't mind sharing with the rest of the students..."

The girl looked quite unnerved to have the whole rest of the Great Hall turning eyes on her. She swallowed, and nodded. "Well, Maledictus is a term used for- for people with a blood curse, that dooms them to transform permanently into an animal at some point in their lives. Prior to this point, they're like natural animagi, able to freely go between that form and their human form. But, at some point...it will become permanent, and they'll not be able to change back."

"Five points to Slytherin, thank you, Miss Rouche," Dumbledore replied, nodding at her. "That is, unfortunately, an accurate description. It's an affliction that's very cruel, and currently incurable, and irreversible. Most people with this curse, after becoming trapped, do their best to maintain ties to humanity - to society. With help from friends and family, and the Ministry, a certain life can still be lived, if a much more limited kind than before. But others simply cannot find the fortitude within themselves to try, to maintain, to hold on. These ones simply choose to...leave it all behind, and give in to the form's instincts and way of life, disappearing from the world to live among natural animals in nature itself," he concluded somberly.

Dumbledore's gaze strayed to Nagini, and he gave an indicating nod. "This you see before you is not a natural animal - this is a woman afflicted with the curse of a Maledictus. For many decades, she's been missing from society - gone from the world. Fifty years, in fact. But today she returns to us. In recent years, she has chosen to spend her time protecting the life of Harry Potter. And I could not be more proud or pleased to have learned this; I would have trusted no one else to watch over young Harry, no better person. I'm pleased with her return, more than I can say. For it is the return of a very old, dear friend of mine. Her name is one many of you will recognize, if you've been paying attention in your History of Magic lessons: Nagini Siahaan."

Commotion and furious whispers. Those smoke-puffing cameras puffed faster, and those quills were scribbling like mad on parchment.

"Yes," Dumbledore went on, smiling. "This is the very same Nagini Siahaan who vanished in the year 1942, only a few short years before the end of the war against infamous Dark Wizard, Gellert Grindelwald. Why or to where she disappeared, it was never known nor discovered: until just last evening, when she arrived in my office alongside Mr. Potter, to tell me the tale of her whereabouts - particularly in recent times. A life lived long in solitude. But no longer. I'm introducing her to you all this morning as well as the public at large, because she will be a guest of this castle for the next several years. My personal guest. While she is here, she will follow the same rules as any guest of the castle - any visiting parents or citizens of Hogsmeade. And while she is here, I expect every student of mine to treat her precisely like the lovely person that she is. The utmost courtesy and respect is to be afforded Ms. Siahaan - no matter her form, her unfortunate curse."

Everyone heard the warning at the end.

"Now, if our guests from the Ministry have any questions for Ms. Siahaan, she is willing to answer them," Dumbledore spoke. "I'm entirely capable of acting as a translator; one of the many languages I've learned over the years has been the language of serpents. I learned it specifically, decades ago now, during that long past war, so that I could communicate with Ms. Siahaan in this form of hers, no matter the situation."

Harry watched Nagini lift her head and straighten herself up as the reporters approached her (though they directed their words at Dumbledore rather than her).

* * *

"I can't believe that's her!"

"It's Nagini."

"The spy, the war hero! The one who went missing before Grindelwald's defeat!"

"She's been protecting Harry Potter?!"

Harry grimaced and glanced down at Nagini as they moved through the corridors to his first lesson (Nagini had insisted on escorting him there, and Harry was happy to have her), trailing a dozen feet behind his classmates. "I guess we're both pretty famous here, aren't we?" he commented quickly, quietly.

Nagini tossed her head, in a startlingly accurate imitation of rolling her eyes. "I don't want to be - my contributions to the war were minor, in my opinion."

"Doesn't seem like it's theirs," Harry murmured, casting a look ahead.

"They're children," Nagini hissed, humorous. "They think spy, and war, and think excitement and adventure. It was nothing of the sort..." she finished quietly.

"I don't think that," Harry offered.

"Harry: don't lie," Nagini said absently.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly, flushing.

"Your first lessons are Transfigurations," Nagini went on, casual and warm. "This Professor McGonagall seems like a strict woman, so I don't want you daydreaming or goofing around with your new friends. You need to be attentive and focused."

"Right, got it," Harry said dutifully. "I won't."

"I'll hear about it if you don't."

"I said I won't," Harry insisted.

"Good. You really can do amazing things when you put your mind to it - when you put in the effort, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said, struggling to keep sarcasm at bay at what he felt was a backhanded compliment from his mother-figure.


	5. Hard Truths

"It was completely unfair! He just kept sneering at me and mocking me. 'Our new celebrity - ah, make that _one_ of ours.' And then he asked me a bunch of questions and I only knew the answers to two of them, and that was only because you were having me get in that early studying before I came here! He just really hates me! I don't even know why!"

Nagini listened attentively to Harry's upset words in her quarters (a place for a human, magically altered to help a serpent), in late evening of Harry's first Friday at Hogwarts. Four days into term. Four days and already...

She nodded at Harry, slithering closer to him on the small bed. She nuzzled against him, pressing her snout to his cheek. "I'll have a word with Albus. A teacher shouldn't behave that way - no one should. No one should treat any child that way, especially for no reason. No one should ever...treat _anyone_ that way, for no reason," she spoke passionately. "I'll make sure something is done about it."

"Thanks."

"That's why I'm here, Harry, sweetie. For you. Thank you for telling me about this - how you feel about it. It's never wrong to do so. And I'm always going to be here to hear you out, even if you just want to yell."

Even still, she saw Harry blush, as he murmured, "I didn't _mean_ to yell..."

Nagini slid off the bed, crossing the room.

"Hey - where are you going?" Harry asked, confused.

"Exactly where I said I was going: to make sure something is done about that teacher of yours," Nagini replied. "Stay here, Harry; I'll be back to tell you how it goes."

* * *

"Why does Severus Snape hate Harry so much that he would bully him in his first lesson?"

Dumbledore regarded Nagini from across his office, surprised.

She crossed the distance and climbed the chair, winding herself around it to hold herself up at eye level with Dumbledore at his desk.

"Has something happened?" asked Dumbledore, serious.

"Yes - exactly what I said."

Dumbledore sighed, folding his hands. "I'm afraid Severus holds a hatred for James Potter, a grudge cemented during their school years, and mistreatment at his hands, and sees him in his son. I'd hoped he would have moved on by now, learned to let go, but if he hasn't..."

"So he'd belittle a child for the father's sins - bully someone after he was? What a petty little man."

"Severus is-"

"It doesn't matter. It's unacceptable, Albus. Does this school have no standards?"

"Dear Nagini, I'd ask you not to-"

"And I'm asking you to tell your teacher to act decently toward his students, at minimum. To be mocked in open classroom, pestered like that... 'Our new celebrity.' It was wrong. If Harry is going to keep suffering abuse at the hands of an adult here after leaving his relatives...Do you ever learn from your mistakes, truly? Did you forget that I know what that feels like? To be jeered at, berated, harassed by those with all the power over you while you have nothing?" Nagini was hissing, spitting her words furiously.

Dumbledore bowed his head, nodding. "You are right; I will have a word with him on the matter. I'll see he adjusts his conduct toward Harry."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you. I find it rather refreshing to have someone here to remind me of my failings. My flaws. My many mistakes. Perhaps I've forgotten what it was like to have...an honest friend around. One who knows me so well."

"Well here's more honesty, Albus: You try so hard to stay away from power, but the position of Headmaster _is_ a very powerful position. I'm not sure you succeeded entirely at what you wanted for yourself. Especially if it's letting you excuse yourself on your mistakes - that _was_ what you wanted to avoid? Putting Harry with the Dursleys, while the right move, wasn't _yours_ to make, and trying to excuse this Severus Snape's horrid actions to me; it begs the question, doesn't it. You should give that arrogance a check as well as the ambition. And if you can't humble yourself and get some small measure of perspective, then give up your position for a while - get back to traveling and researching. Leave this to others. It would be the sensible thing to do if you catch yourself slipping."

Dumbledore stared at her in silence, and then he began to chuckle. "Ah, thank you, again - truly. You're right; I am...slipping, as you put it. I'm afraid so long here has indeed done quite the number on my mentality. Perhaps a vacation _wouldn't_ be remiss...Clarity and perspective always does one good...and if that is what I find myself in dire need of..." He looked plain alarmed - and _lost._ "It would help me with recent decisions, and decisions to be made going forward..."

"What decisions?"

Dumbledore sighed, lifting his head to gaze at the ceiling.

"Albus - a true friend doesn't have secrets kept from her. And she isn't lied to, either. The war is long over - mine, and the last one. It doesn't have to be your way anymore."

Dumbledore looked at her with something akin to _fear._ He put a hand to his forehead, gave his head a shake. "I'm afraid that is precisely the trouble, my dear Nagini..."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps I _have_ gotten far too used to holding all the cards, as the saying goes. But it's only because I know...I know _him_ , and I know..."

"What do you know?"

"Voldemort is not truly dead," Dumbledore said heavily. "Someday he will return, and when he does he will renew the war, and he will come for Harry. To finish what he started, to give example to followers and enemies alike of his power, and because his own ego demands it. As well as because..."

"Tell me. If it helps protect Harry, I need to know. No more secrets and lies, Albus, remember? Just tell me, tell someone - tell anyone else."

"I know you are skilled in Occlumency..." Dumbledore began, in a near whisper.

"Queenie made that a necessity," Nagini agreed quietly, fighting to control the rising grief and sorrow in her soul at memory of her long ago friend. A friend long since...

Dumbledore nodded. He exhaled again. "There is a prophecy - about Harry and Voldemort."

"I don't care; prophecies aren't Unbreakable Vows - or Blood Pacts. They aren't binding, and plenty of them don't even come to pass."

"I whole-heartedly agree," Dumbledore replied. "But Voldemort doesn't share our view of things. Eleven years ago now, from the moment he first heard of the prophecy, he did all he could to see it wouldn't come to pass, himself. He committed himself to it, fearful of its contents. This is why he went after the Potter family, that Halloween night. This is why Lily and James went into hiding, after I told them the prophecy, along with Harry. Voldemort fears Harry, he fears the prophecy. He fears it so much that he went to kill an infant boy, and he fears it so much still that he would try to kill that boy again if he ever returned."

"What is the exact wording of the prophecy?"

Dumbledore told her, slowly and carefully.

"What does it mean?" Nagini pressed.

"I can only guess - prophecies are hazy at the best of times," Dumbledore answered, hesitant. "But, suffice it to say, I believe parts of the prophecy have already come to pass. And it came to pass because Voldemort held a position of ignorance: he only heard the first half of the prophecy. About a boy who would vanquish the Dark Lord, born in July. He had no idea about 'marking him as his equal,' nor about 'a power he knows not.'"

"Or...that either must die at the hands of the other," Nagini finished. "'For neither can live while the other survives.' Is live literal? The sense of not being dead, or is it figurative? Does it mean that as long as Voldemort is out there, Harry won't be able to be happy and _have a life_?"

"Perhaps. Certainly for Voldemort, it must mean that as long as Harry lives, Voldemort won't get a moment's peace - he has always been fearful of those who would rise up and challenge him. Always looking for them, to strike them down. In his paranoia, in his fear, and in his ego."

"Prophecies aren't binding; most don't come to pass," Nagini said firmly. "None of this has to mean anything more - even if parts of it have already come true. We can stop it now, keep the rest of it from happening at all."

"That is what I've been trying to do for Harry all this time," Dumbledore stated quietly. "That is the _main_ reason why I arranged for the blood protection, why I took it upon myself to place him there. Because I _knew_ , Nagini. I knew the prophecy, I knew Voldemort, I knew what it might mean. I only wanted him to be able to survive, to live. That he hasn't lived happily...I am sorry."

"No more making major decisions on your own," Nagini replied. "Not about Harry's life. Not unless you discuss it with me first. I've been there with him for five years, right by his side. I have more of a claim to that right than you do."

"You do," Dumbledore agreed. "Again, I offer my apologies. Moving forward, I assure you that I will keep you as informed as I can on matters concerning Harry."

"And Voldemort," Nagini hissed. "It's been so long since my last war...but I'm willing to fight another if it means giving Harry a life."

"An admirable sentiment."

"Marking him as his equal - what does that mean? Make a guess."

"I believe that part has already happened - Harry's scar," Dumbledore spoke on. "But, more than that...what do you make of Harry being a parselmouth? I believe that on that night, when the curse rebounded, that some of Voldemort's powers were transferred into Harry. Not intentionally, but it did happen."

"Voldemort was a parselmouth."

"He is."

"So there are three people I could communicate with, one of them I would never want to," Nagini mused. "My options are an old man, a young boy, and a Dark Wizard."

"Very limited, unfortunately," Dumbledore said, nodding.

"What about this power he knows not? And either one having to kill the other?" Nagini went on seriously. "If it does end up happening, if it's ever...necessary for Harry to use that, to end Voldemort himself - binding or not - if he's ever just in a situation that calls for it, if he gets the chance...could we mitigate the risks? Protect him, act for him, first? Make it easier for him to get in that...that strike? It doesn't say anything about Voldemort having to be aware or conscious at the time, does it? Or free of any kind of imprisonment."

"I'll certainly do all I can to reduce the risks involved when it comes to Harry, and any potential confrontations with Voldemort. If it's ever necessary for him to face him, yes. But I believe that's an inevitability - because Voldemort himself will relentlessly seek him out, remember. Even if _we_ do not set store by the prophecy, Voldemort _does._ He's consumed by it, haunted by it. I think it's sadly unavoidable that at some point, Harry _will_ come face to face with him."

"We'll protect Harry, and if Voldemort ever comes for him again, we'll wait for him and we'll kill him," Nagini said fiercely. "It's actually a perfect situation to set up a trap of some sort - an ambush."

"It is indeed," Dumbledore said, smiling at her. "The Potters might have been, sadly, caught unawares the last time, but we can do our utmost to make sure that does not happen again to young Harry in the future. We can make sure...that he does live a happy, good life, for as long as he can. And when Voldemort returns...when he returns we will all do our best to- deal with the threat."

Nagini slid down from the chair, turning to leave. "This was an enlightening talk. I'm sure it will be even more enlightening to Harry."

"You intend to tell him? An eleven year old boy?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Nagini stopped. She looked back at Dumbledore. "It's better to know than to stay ignorant. It's better to be prepared than left floundering when disaster strikes. It always is. No more secrets, no more lies - I meant that, Albus. Did you?"

"I'm not concerned for secrecy - I'm concerned about the kind of weight that will put on a young boy's shoulders. How can he live a happy, normal life if he knows all of this? If he fears for it in the night? Of a monster of a madman coming for him at any moment?"

"Because every night, he also knows I'll always be right there for him," Nagini answered. "Can I count on you to be there for him as well?"

"Of course. I'll do my best for him - that is all I've ever tried to do, my dear. Though, I'm afraid I haven't done it very well, have I?"

"You haven't - but you can do better now. You owe it to Harry."

* * *

Nagini returned to her quarters, and she told Harry everything. The prophecy, and even Dumbledore's speculations on his parselmouth abilities coming from Voldemort - a transfer of powers, that night, along with that scar he was left with on his forehead.

Harry sat beside her on the small bed, his arms going around himself.

"Prophecies don't mean anything unless you want them to," Nagini said firmly. "Unless you know about them. Many have been made before, and they passed by without the subject knowing, without it becoming any kind of reality. Yours is no different, Harry. Just because a deranged dark wizard decided to act on it - and act on only _half_ of what he knew - doesn't mean anything. Your parents acted to protect you because they knew this, too. They wanted you safe, and happy, and normal. They wanted you to have a good, normal boy's life - and you will. Nothing and no one is going to force you to do _anything_ ; I'll make sure of it. You just focus on school, on friends, and on _living._ And let myself and others take care of the rest - if that man ever even returns. I'll protect you, like I always have, even from Voldemort."

"But I-"

"Harry...Voldemort acted on fear of the prophecy. On fear itself. But you don't have to do the same - you don't have to act on fear. Just forget it, and live, and be happy. Do that, and men like him are already beaten. Fear gives them power, terror gives them control, but happiness and love allow us to be free of them, allows us to stand against them...and defeat them completely. Even their memories. And this man, right now...he is _nothing but a memory._ And I promise that I will make sure he stays that way."

Harry hugged her bodily, pressing his face against hers.

Nagini wished she could have hugged him back. Wrapping herself firmly around his middle, arms and all, was the best she could do.


	6. First Weekend Snag

Over his first weekend free, Harry sat in the common room in the morning, on a sofa in front of the fireplace, reading over his Charms textbooks and working on his first essay in his lap.

Harry was trying his best to do as his- as Nagini had said, and not let the prophecy and fears take over. He was determined to forget it all. Maybe some madman like Voldemort would let it rule his life, but Harry wouldn't.

Not long into it, Tamara and Susan came over to him together (when had they become friends, Harry wondered - though, he was happy to see it). Tamara was clutching a notebook to her chest, and a pen in her hand held tight.

"Hi," Harry greeted them.

The girls sat down with him on the sofa; Susan sighed - Tamara slumped down and sprawled her arms and legs about, a thoroughly upset look on her face.

"Erm, is something wrong?" Harry asked, eyeing Tamara.

Tamara gazed back at him, frowning. Then she blew a breath and sat up, flipping open her notebook and scribbling in it quickly. Then, she showed it to him. Large, loopy letters read: **Someone stole my communication tools - my Voc-Aloud, and my Chatter-Scribe-Feather.**

"That's horrible!" Harry said, frowning at her. He set his textbook and essay aside. "Do you have any idea who might've done it?"

Tamara just looked at him, frustration showing.

"We've been asking around, but no luck so far," Susan informed Harry quickly.

"When did they go missing?" Harry asked her.

"Sometime last night, maybe," Susan answered. "Tamara usually puts them in a drawer of her nightstand, and when she opened that drawer when she woke up this morning they weren't there."

"So it likely had to have been someone in our year - your dorms," Harry said slowly. "Another girl who sleeps in there."

"All the girls said they didn't do it," Susan replied. "But who knows if one of them was lying. I couldn't tell."

"Or maybe someone else snuck in there and took them," Harry suggested. "If they really were telling the truth."

"Who knows," Susan repeated, with a heavy sigh. She grabbed Tamara's hand and gave it a few pats. "We're going to tell the professors about it - and the Prefects, too."

"Good idea," Harry said. "If you're going to keep looking into it on your own, do you think I could help you?" He looked at Tamara as he said this, determined - worried for her.

Tamara blinked at him.

Harry flushed, and took up his quill and started writing on a spare piece of parchment, writing out his question to her.

Tamara's cheeks turned pink, and she smiled. She made a quick motion with her hands, then frowned. She took up her pen and wrote two big words in her notebook: **Yes. T** **hanks.**

Harry smiled back; Tamara hugged him.

* * *

"Alright, whoever took Tamara's communication tools: speak up now and save yourself a whole heap of trouble." Prefect Christina Lynn spoke sharply. Her gaze roamed the first years, flitted from face to face. Her arms were crossed, her wand in idle hand. All in all, the teenager was an intimidating sight.

"Whatever - here." A first year girl - Megan Jones - reached into her robes and pulled out two familiar objects; she tossed them on the floor and turned her head with a huff. "I just wanted to see what these weird things were."

Christina flicked her wand without even uncrossing her arms. Without even a word said, Tamara's communication tools soared across the common room to their owner. The prefect strode up to Megan, gazing down at her from behind long, blood red locks. "This is extremely serious. You literally took away her voice. If it wasn't the weekend, you would have caused her all kinds of difficulties in classes."

Megan looked down, silent.

"Come with me. We're going to see Professor Sprout." Christina left the common room with Megan in tow.

* * *

Harry had never tried to learn a whole new language before - but he'd try it, for Tamara. It was clear enough to him from what had happened, just on that first weekend, that Tamara might not always have those magic devices of hers with her. For all sorts of reasons! So, he had to have a way to talk to her. And he wouldn't always have something to write with, either. So...Harry was determined to learn this sign language of hers.

No need for tools or devices, no need for writing - they could just talk to each other. In the way Tamara was most familiar with, most comfortable with. In _her_ language.

Susan professed that she already had been. Had been picking up signs from Tamara, asking her about it all - at least a little. She found it all interesting, really.

Harry was just as interested.

So he asked Tamara, and he sat down with the girls, and spent hours of his weekend paying attention to an excited Tamara as she tried to teach them the most basic, common signs - words.


	7. Letters Sent

Harry could hardly believe he'd been at Hogwarts for a month now!

He'd learned so much - about magic, and about his parents (most of the staff were happy to share with him).

Harry had learned all about the friends his parents had had, and he'd decided today to write letters out to them. To the ones anyone knew were still alive and well, that was; the war had taken many people. The ones Harry knew for certain...it was a small pool. But he was determined to get in touch with them. There was a Remus Lupin, one of his father's best friends, and for his mother, there was a woman named Mary McDonald, and another named Marlene McKinnon. There was the groundskeeper, Hagrid, who had been close to both his parents (and whom Harry had already had a few visits with; he liked the man a lot), along with a lot of the professors (again).

Also included among them was one person that his teachers _all_ strongly advised against sending any letters to: Sirius Black.

Harry found out that the man was in Azkaban, the magical prison. And he found out why, directly from the Headmaster.

Black had been a spy and a traitor for Voldemort; Black had been the one to tell Voldemort where Harry's parents had been hiding with him ten years ago - the place called Godric's Hollow. He'd been their Secret-Keeper, the one trusted to protect their location and uphold a magical enchantment that kept Voldemort from knowing where they were. From even _seeing_ the place, even if he'd stood at the front door.

But Black had betrayed them.

The best friend of Harry's father, and he'd betrayed him. Betrayed them all.

And after that betrayal, after Voldemort's defeat that night, Black had gone on a mad rampage and killed thirteen people. Including another best friend of Harry's father - Peter Pettigrew.

There was only one good, free best friend of James Potter left in the world: the man named Remus Lupin.

Dumbledore told Harry that Lupin was a difficult man to find, but that the owls shouldn't have an issue with it, if Harry wanted to talk to him at all (strongly suggesting, in that way, that Harry forget Black completely in favor of Lupin - someone far better).

But Harry couldn't forget.

Not a single bit of it.

So it was that Harry sat with Nagini in her private quarters, at an old desk, trying to figure out just _what_ to write to Sirius Black, after having finished up his other letters. So heartachingly few of them...

Harry tried to figure out how to give voice to all the questions and feelings inside him toward this man. This murderer, this betrayer.

Nagini was right: war and spies weren't exciting and wonderful. They were horrible. It was all so horrible - so awful.

Harry held his quill over the parchment, poised in a trembling hand. Then he set it aside and sat back, looking to Nagini with a sigh. "How do I-" he began, only to stop himself. His voice was thick. He ducked his head in embarrassment. Then he blurted out something that embarrassed him even further. "Did you ever do anything like Black? In the war against Grindelwald?"

Nagini looked him in the face, then she shook her head. "No - different kind of spy, Harry. The kind that this Black was...the way that Albus described it...it was being a mole, it was getting close to people, it was lying to their faces, pretending to be a friend and an ally when you were going to stab them in the back. Get them killed, to give an advantage to your true side - the other side. I never did anything like that; all I did was use this form to get into places humans couldn't - to eavesdrop and... _tail_ people without my being noticed," she finished, with a light note of humor.

"Okay," Harry nodded, relief flooding him in a warmth.

"It doesn't really matter how you say something to this man, Harry; just put things down in your letter however you want to," Nagini informed quietly. "No matter how crass, crude, or rude. He'd definitely deserve it all. Just let the words come out however they...come out."

Harry refocused on his letter, taking up quill again with a breath drawn. "Alright..."

Nagini slithered up into his lap, and she rested herself against his stomach. "You can always stop if it gets too difficult; it's not wrong to want to cry."

"You always say that." Harry glanced down at her, his cheeks hot.

"Because it's always true - no matter what those Dursleys ever told you," Nagini countered. "Do you think if I were still human that I wouldn't cry? I have decades worth of tears trapped in my soul, Harry. And I can never let them free. But you can - for your parents, for what this man did to them, and to you. And that's okay; it's never shameful, or weak, or wrong."

Harry screwed up his face and pressed his lips together, nodding again down to her.

He set quill to parchment, and began to write at last.

* * *

"Did you finish those letters? Got them all out?"

Harry nodded to Susan in the common room, peering at her over the chaotic wizard's chess board (a lot of the pieces were trying to just break the rules and bludgeon each other). "Yeah," he said.

"Even to Black? You went ahead with that?" Susan asked, tentative.

"Yes," Harry repeated simply.

"What...did you write to him?" Susan continued, ever more hesitant. "It's alright if you don't want to say!"

"I just asked him why," Harry replied, sighing. "Why, if he was their friend, my father's best friend: why did he do it? What did Voldemort even say or do to make him do it? To get him to betray them like that? And I told him about my life up until I met Nagini - that it was because of him that I had to live with people who hated me, who treated me like dirt. I imagine he'll be thrilled to hear that part, at least," he finished sarcastically.

Susan frowned, but said nothing to the sarcasm. "I've never thought about why they did any of the things they did - any of those people. Death Eaters," she voiced with spite. "They don't deserve the time of day for all they've done! I can't believe you've even written to one; I wouldn't dream of writing to any of the people who killed _my_ -" She stopped, face twisted with too many emotions - rage chief among them. She turned her head, hiding behind her hair. "The only reply you're likely to get back from Black is cruelty, mocking, even. He'll probably gloat about it all," she whispered.

"Maybe," Harry agreed quietly. "But at least I won't have to waste my time writing him anything more after, if that's all he gives me." He hesitated, then he reached out and he took Susan's wrist. He squeezed it, like Nagini often squeezed at him with her coiled body in times of distress. "Sorry if this is too hard for you to talk about. We don't have to talk about Black or anything if you don't want to."

Susan looked at him swiftly, her mouth open and her cheeks a deep pink. She looked down at his hand, then she gave a small grin. "I'm the one who brought him up, silly."

Harry let go and withdrew his hand, flushing too and avoiding her gaze. "Y-yeah - right. But, err, you're still getting all...worked up. I don't like seeing that," he went on, stammering. "I mean you're my friend, and it's sad to see you..."

Susan clasped her hands, and she laughed. "Thanks, Harry. But I'm fine."

"Ok," Harry said, and he forced himself to laugh too. He gave a grin and gestured to the chess board. "Back to the game, then?"

"Sure!"


	8. Letters Received

It was in early October when the letters started to return to Harry.

Responses, from the few people he had reached out to.

Harry coveted them at breakfast, when the school owls flew down to give them to him.

He put the letters in his bag, and he waited.

He wanted to read them right away - but he also didn't want to dare read them without Nagini there by his side. One of them, that was.

The letter from Black.

If it was as Susan said - just full of hate, cruelty and mocking - rantings of an insane madman whose master had been defeated, then Harry wanted to face _that_ with Nagini there for him. Nagini always tried to get him to admit to his emotions, to display them, to be honest to her about them - said it was good and healthy, even if the Dursleys always told him it was weak and pathetic, and they didn't care what he felt about anything. Well, Harry was admitting it right now: he was scared. He was scared to read that letter from Black - from a murderer, from a traitor. The reason his parents were dead, the reason he didn't have them in his life! What if there wasn't a reason? Was there any good reason?

In the end, Harry just wanted to _know._ He had to know.

But not just yet.

Harry was distracted throughout all his lessons by the thought of those letters.

Even to the point where Professor Snape - who had been making it a point to just flat out ignore Harry rather than openly deride him, ever since Nagini's talk with the Headmaster about it - was forced to acknowledge Harry (albeit briefly).

"Potter - when students come to my classes I expect them to pay attention," the professor snapped out. "Two points from Hufflepuff."

Harry startled, looking his professor in the eye. He sighed. He supposed that much was fair. "Sorry, sir," he said sincerely as he could. He focused on his potions assignment anew.

The professor went right back to ignoring him, turning away in a swirl of black robes.

Harry stared after the professor. And again he wondered something he was way too scared to even ask about: his parents. This man had known his father, James - had hated him, supposedly for being bullied by him at Hogwarts (something that absolutely everyone, from Nagini to the strict Professor McGonagall, had assured him his father had long grown out of and become a better person). That was a reason to hate Harry's father, but not a good reason to hate Harry; Harry hadn't done anything to the man, hadn't even known about his parents until Nagini came into his life. And definitely he hadn't known about his father being like Dudley, of all people, when he was Harry's age!

But Harry still saw it in the man's face, in those dark eyes of his, every time he looked at Harry - even if the man was ignoring him. Just a glance...and Harry knew it was there.

Harry didn't know _what_ to do about it - but he knew he had to try _something._

So Harry waited.

He waited for after class had ended, after the students had all left. And he waited at the door.

And he waited more, until Professor Snape glanced up from his desk and put an essay down that he was marking. "What, Potter?" he spoke, low and controlled. Restrained, for him.

Harry forced the words out, blurted. "I know why you hate me, sir. Because of my father, because of how he treated you. But I'm _not_ him, and I don't deserve to be treated like him - just because I _look like him._ I can't help that!"

Professor Snape looked plain infuriated, eyes narrowing at Harry as he stood up tall, pushing off the desk. "Out! Right now, Potter!"

Harry gulped, turned and fled the classroom.

Well, he'd _tried_. He'd said it.

Whatever Professor Snape did with it was up to him.

* * *

Later that day, Harry finally was able to get free time after lessons ended.

He went to Nagini's quarters, his letter envelopes clasped tightly in hand.

He knocked twice, heard her hissing word, and he entered.

She was, as usual, coiled up in front of the fireplace.

Harry crossed the room to the small sofa, sitting down there and gazing past her into the fires; she came to join him, most of her length hanging off the side of the sofa as she climbed up next to him.

"Your letters came," she spoke casually in greeting. She nodded down to them in Harry's lap. "Which do you want to open first?"

Harry shuffled through them, eyeing the names on the faces of them. He took up the one addressed to him by one Remus Lupin. "This one." He had his father on his mind, since his attempt to communicate on some kind of human level with Professor Snape. Maybe Lupin could tell him more about his father, about that time at Hogwarts.

"Read it when you're ready," Nagini nodded. "I'm sure it will be all good things; I've been talking with Albus about this man, and he tells me he's a _very_ good man - just that he's had a hard life. But he was your father's best friend, and he never once abandoned him during the war."

Harry nodded, opening up the envelope. He took the parchment out and unfolded it, holding it up in the light.

**Dear Harry,**

**Thank you for writing to me - it was quite the surprise. A pleasant one, though, I can tell you. If you want to know about your parents - well, that's natural, of course - and I'll be glad to tell you about them. First, I'd like to congratulate you on making it into Hufflepuff; it's a house for those with great heart and soul. I myself was considered for the House, and nearly placed into it, but I ended up going to Gryffindor. That was where I met your father. Your father was my best friend, and your mother was someone I was close to as well, though that came about a bit later.**

**I first met your father when we were eleven. First years, like yourself now (it's hard to believe so much time has already passed). It was nothing extraordinary, the way we met. James and another friend were studying in the common room, and I was nearby. I somehow got up the courage to ask if I could join them, and your father was happy to let me. The rest, I'm sorry to say, is only history now.**

**The time when I started to become closer to your mother, Lily, was some time toward the end of fifth year. She'd been going through a bit of a rough time, and we happened to meet in the library. I did my best to give her some sympathy, and she apparently thought it was adequate; we started spending more time together, the remainder of that year - and she started spending more time with your father, the next year, specifically. It all came about rather naturally, I'd say.**

**Again, I thank you for writing, and if you'd like to know more, do feel free to send another letter.**

**Sincerely, Remus J. Lupin.**

Harry happily set the letter aside, and moved on to the next with real eagerness. This next one being from Mary McDonald.

**Dear Harry,**

**It was a huge shock to get a letter from you, but I'll be happy to tell you whatever I can about Lily! She was one of my closest friends at Hogwarts, and I was able to be at her wedding to James Potter (your dad, obviously!). Lily was pretty, had lots of friends, and was almost always easy to talk to. She was very outspoken and passionate, about anything and everything - from her schoolwork to social issues. She was kind, and always did her best to help you if you needed it. During our school years, she was extremely talented at Charms work; she was one of the best - and I was one of the worst! She got me through our classes, somehow. Sixth year was the worst - we had started our NEWTS lessons, and she was a bit preoccupied with your dad at the time - but she still found the time to help me achieve my best.**

**I'm sure I still have pictures of her wedding around - I could find them for you and owl them to you, if you'd like. Send as many owls as you want, anyway - I'll do my best to reply as soon as I can.**

**Love, Mary**

Harry set this second letter atop the first, and he reached for another - the one from Marlene McKinnon.

**Dear Harry,**

**Thank you for contacting me, but I'm not sure how much I can tell about your parents. I didn't know them at Hogwarts - only for a few years after. Before their deaths. We fought together in the war against Voldemort, and while we grew closer because of it, we didn't grow close enough that I knew much about their personal lives. I'm sincerely sorry I can't tell you much, but to be perfectly honest, I'd rather not think of those times at all. But what I did know was that they were both very brave, and magically talented. They always tried to be the first into fights, tried to take on every mission. They went into hiding for you, for that final year of the war, because they loved you that much. I'm sorry you never got to know them, while I even get to know this much about them. It really isn't fair at all. And again, I'm sorry.**

**Sincerely, McKinnon**

Harry put the letter with the rest, feeling rather upset. He understood more than most kids probably would have - he had five years of Nagini refusing to give any details of _her_ life and past under his belt - but it still hurt. It didn't sound like that particular person wanted to be bothered with more letters. Harry wouldn't bother her, then.

The only letter left was Black's.

It had an official stamp on it, red and thick, and big purple words on the envelope that read: **Approved by Ministry Post Offices.**

Harry tore it open, pulling the letter out and whipping it open - the better to get it over with, whatever its contents.

**Harry,**

**Never in a thousand years did I think I'd hear from you. From your letter, I can imagine how you must feel about me - you made it fairly clear. There's so much I could tell you, so much I want to tell you. But the most important thing is what I need to tell you, even if you don't believe me. Even if no one on the outside does. And that is this: I swear to you that I'm innocent. The crimes I was convicted of, the reason I've been in here for ten years now, it wasn't my doing! The deaths of all those muggles that day, Peter Pettigrew's death - he isn't dead. He's an Animagus, a rat, and he faked his death and pinned the crime on me that day. He cut off his own finger and left it behind as "proof" of death.**

**I know this is difficult to hear, I know this must sound crazy, but it's the truth. Please, give this information to those who can do something about it.**

**And the information I'm about to tell you.**

**I didn't betray your parents, James - he was my _best friend._ I was his best man at his wedding. I never would have wanted him dead, or Lily, or you. When you were a baby, I visited you, you know. I brought you gifts. I swear to you, I loved you - all three of you. I was named your godfather.**

**But I wasn't the Secret-Keeper. A charm, the Fidelius, meant to protect you back then. It was agreed that I'd be the one to hold the secret, to uphold the magical enchantment that kept you safe from Voldemort. But at the last minute, I told James to switch with Peter Pettigrew. And he did.**

**Peter Pettigrew betrayed your parents, he told Voldemort where to find them - not me.**

**He framed me, made the whole world think it was me. But I swear to you I didn't do it.**

**Of course, you're still right to blame me: I as good as killed them, in convincing James to swap me with Peter. Thinking myself so clever. That cleverness got them killed - your mum and dad. And nearly you, too. The godson I was supposed to protect. Something I've failed at terribly, if your words about your life so far are any indication. Blame me for that, too. It's the truth, and nothing less than I deserve. Had I not been so arrogant and reckless, you could have had a proper home with me. Everything that happened that night, and everything that has happened since is my fault. And I am so sorry, Harry.**

**From, Sirius Black**

Harry read the letter over twice, then laid it out smoothly for Nagini to read.

After she had finished, she looked at him.

Harry gazed back at her. "Do you think- is any of this even possible?"

Could it even be true? It was so far off from anything Harry had even expected. It was _apologies,_ it was claims of innocence...

"It could all be lies, a ploy to escape captivity," Nagini spoke quietly. "But, on the other hand, plenty of innocent people end up imprisoned in the world. With the state of the Ministry at the end of the war, I don't find it hard to believe they would have locked away more than a few innocents. Especially if this one was framed for it - magic can do wonders in that regard. Horrific wonders. Memory charms and mind control. At the least...it's worth bringing to Albus's attention," she concluded. "Come, Harry; let's go and see him."


	9. Halloween Wanderings

After meeting with Dumbledore and showing him the letter, Harry was left feeling even more conflicted than ever about Sirius Black.

Dumbledore had said it was _possible_ , and that it was also, "just the sort of thing your father, and the Sirius I knew, would have done." But he had also said there was no way to verify any of it. No way to know.

That no matter what the truth of Sirius Black's situation was, there wasn't going to be any proving it either way - without proof to prove it with.

The only proof that would satisfy anyone was Pettigrew himself - if it was true, if he was alive. If he could even be questioned. He'd have to be found first, though.

Harry wanted to believe it - his father's best friend, his own _godfather_. But...

But it could all be a lie, a trick. Just to get at him, to get free. Finish what Voldemort couldn't, that night in Godric's Hollow.

If this was the spy, the mole, the man who had lied and sold Harry and his parents out - lied to their _faces_ \- then it wouldn't be beyond him to make up a lie of a story about innocence, about compassion and love for Harry. Just...just to find him, get to him, and kill him. He'd done it once before, hadn't he?

There was no trusting the man's words. No trusting _him._

But Harry badly wanted to.

In the end, Dumbledore had promised to start looking into the situation - said he was going to go and visit Black soon, for a start.

Harry had asked if he could go with him, but Dumbledore and Nagini both had said they didn't think that was a good idea. At least not yet, and not without a whole heap of precautions! But neither had the adults outright _forbid_ Harry from ever one day going to visit Black in prison, which placated Harry well enough.

* * *

Harry did his best throughout October to stay busy, despite certain events happening in the world that concerned him.

It was on the front page of the Daily Prophet, one morning at breakfast; Black's claims had been revealed to the public - about animagi and Secret-Keepers, about a still living Peter Pettigrew with a lost finger - and Dumbledore had spoken to the Ministry about getting him a trial to further investigate them. By direct questioning and magical means. Apparently, Black had never even gotten a trial at all, ten years ago.

It was set for late November, this questioning of Black's.

Whatever the outcome, Harry just wanted to know the truth. Whether it was how it seemed, or if it was true and there had been a swap, and a deception. A framing of Black for crimes he hadn't committed.

Nagini had told Harry not to worry over it all, and to keep focusing on school.

So Harry did his best for her on that. His essays and assignments kept him plenty busy throughout the month.

And his out-of-classroom activities, too: he spent more time than ever with Susan and Tamara, and he took up a more regular correspondence with Remus Lupin and Mary McDonald via owl post; he received a fair few old photos of his parents from both of them. Magical, moving photos!

And of course, every evening after classes ended, Harry would go and spend a couple of hours with Nagini (who herself had begun to spend time out on the grounds; she _had_ always liked being outside).

By the time Harry knew it, Halloween had arrived.

Harry hadn't ever actually done anything for it before; he'd never had anything to remember, no real information to reflect on about his parents. But now, knowing them more intimately through Remus and Mary, and all his professors...having those photos, being here where they'd gone to school too...

Harry wanted to do _something._ Well, more exactly, he just didn't want to join in on celebrations with his classmates.

He just wanted to be alone, and to think, really.

A moment of silence.

He found himself making his way through the castle alone, in late evening. Up the grand staircase, several floors and flights. He mostly wandered, but in the end, his mind knew where it really wanted to go - and he got there.

He arrived at Nagini's quarters, and he entered without a knock.

He wouldn't really have cared if she wasn't there - she'd always said he could come here if he needed to, even just to be alone - but she was, fortunately enough.

She looked at him and seemed to just know. Of course she knew.

Harry went right to her, sitting down in front of the fireplace on the rug, legs crossed.

He didn't say anything, and neither did she.

Not for over an hour, when she finally did speak up.

"We should still get you to the feast, Harry; dinner is important. And I'm sure your friends are wondering where you've gone."

Harry nodded, getting to his feet. He took the lead out into the corridor.

They moved through the halls, down a flight from the fourth floor, onto the third.

Down a long hall, around a corner, and into another.

Harry was jarred from his own distracted mind at the sight of movement at the far end of the corridor. He saw a door creaking open, saw a short, stout man with dirty blond hair and a twitchy demeanor disappear into darkness. Saw the back of a familiar purple turban begin to follow after the other man into that room-

And his scar exploded with pain. It was more pain than he'd ever felt before, it was blinding, agonizing! Harry smacked his hand to his forehead, screwing his eyes shut and gasping, tossing his head back and forth.

"Harry, what's wrong?!" Nagini began, alarmed - _fearful._

Quirrell whipped around, raising his wand - only to stop as a hissing voice echoed up the corridor. But it wasn't Nagini.

" _No - b_ _ring them._ " the voice hissed, high and cold. A man's voice. " _Inside, quickly! We have no time for this!_ "

"Harry, run - now!" Nagini yelled out.

But Harry could hardly think, see, or move - the red light flashed, streaking down the corridor and hitting him in the chest.

Harry lost all consciousness, falling into a world of darkness.

His last thought was: _Wait, wasn't that the door Dumbledore said not to go near at the start of the year...?_


	10. Soul's Desire

Harry woke up on a hard, cold floor.

His scar was burning, intense and constant.

He sat straight up, and found himself immediately panicking - his arms and his legs were bound in tight, strong black ropes!

Harry's eyes immediately found his captors.

That short blond haired man (who had Harry's wand, and another), and Professor Quirrell. The pair were standing before a large, full length mirror with inscriptions around its framing.

"P-Professor, what're you- what's going on here?" Harry called out, willing his voice not to waver. It did anyway.

Quirrell didn't turn - he gazed at Harry through the mirror, his back to Harry still. "Nothing," he spoke, simple and calm. Not a hint of a stutter. "You, Potter, and your Maledictus guardian, were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. Quite unfortunate - but there was nothing to be done about it. Not the way I would have wanted to do it, anyway. But it seems my Master thought otherwise..."

At mention of Nagini, Harry cast his gaze about once more, and he found her: she was coiled up nearby, inside a floating sphere of magical energy. "Are you-" Harry started to say, horror and fear washing through him.

"I'm perfectly fine, Harry," Nagini spoke firmly. "And so are you. And we're going to stay that way. Just keep yourself calm, please."

Harry nodded, giving a hard swallow; she was the one with all the experience when it came to dealing with situations like this. He looked to the other man in the chamber. "Who is that?" he asked.

The man flinched, as if Harry had shouted at him. He cringed and turned his head so that Harry couldn't see his face, not even in the mirror.

Suddenly that high voice came again, filling the room. " _I know your pathetic mind holds doubts about the situation, Wormtail, but if you even think to defy me, you will face my wrath just as the boy will."_ A pause. And then, the voice spoke on, in an amused tone. " _You've already once consigned this boy to death by my hand - it should be easy for you to do it a second time._ "

Harry startled, staring more intently at the man with shock. From his letters with Remus about his father's school years, he knew his group of friends had had nicknames: his dad had been Prongs, Remus had been Moony, and Peter Pettigrew had been...

"Wormtail?" Harry spoke up. "Peter Pettigrew?"

The man made a noise that sounded like a whimper.

"That's Peter Pettigrew?" Nagini hissed. "Then if he's alive..."

"Enough chattering," Quirrell said firmly. "I need to focus...focus on how...but how do I...?"

"What're you even trying to do here?" Harry called out.

Quirrell made a noise of irritation. " _Quiet!_ "

After several minutes more, Quirrell let out a growl, stepping away from the mirror. "Rrrrgh. You see if you can have any more luck with this contraption of Dumbledore's, Pettigrew."

Pettigrew moved to take Quirrell's position, squarely in front of the mirror, gazing into it. His gaze flickered to Harry, a few times, in the mirror. After many minutes, however, he too seemed to give it up. Whatever they were even trying to do.

" _Use the boy,_ " the high voice spoke again. " _Perhaps Harry Potter will have more luck than either of you two._ "

Quirrell pointed his wand at Harry, and Harry was lifted up into the air and pulled toward the two men. Quirrell flicked his wand and Harry found his feet rooted to the spot, in front of the mirror. "Look into this mirror and tell me what you see! If you see a ruby stone..."

"What stone?" Harry questioned shakily, gazing into the mirror. "I don't know what's s-supposed to happen, what are we even-"

" _The Philosopher's Stone,_ " the voice came once more. " _The stone to grant immortality, Potter. Immortality and riches beyond most men's dreams. But my dreams are far higher still. For you see, I lack form and substance...but the Stone can create for me a new body, a return to life and strength. A life and a strength that_ you _robbed me of ten years ago!_ " the voice shouted, with a palpable malice and rage.

"I- I don't even know who you are!" Harry stammered.

" _Did your parents really spawn such a dim-witted boy? What was it that happened on this very day, a decade ago?_ "

Harry gasped. "V-Voldemort?"

Quirrell's face seized. "You think you can say his name, you, a mere boy who-"

" _Quite enough, Quirrell."_

"Forgive me, Master. The boy insults you gravely."

" _Ah, but he is just a boy, isn't he? We can forgive some impertinence,_ " Voldemort said, humorous again. " _Now, Harry, look into the mirror - wish with all your heart and soul for the Stone...and it may well come to you. Dumbledore's methods are clever, and only for those of pure heart of course._ "

"N-no," Harry said, looking down at his feet. "I won't!"

 _"Bravery. Your parents had it, too. But they died as fools. Wasted power and talent, dead far too young. Because they refused me, and your mother, because she refused to simply step aside. But you don't have to make their same mistakes, Harry; help me retrieve the Stone, and I will spare your life._ "

"You're that afraid?" Harry willed the words out.

Silence.

" _Let me speak to him, face to face..._ "

Quirrell raised his hands and began to undo his turban, letting it fall free. He turned away from Harry, and the sight that met Harry was one to nearly make him scream again.

There was another face on the back of Quirrell's head! A face of sharp features, slits for nostrils, like a snake's, and glistening eyes of scarlet. A bloody red.

Voldemort's scarlet eyes were themselves like slits, gazing at Harry in full. "Lord Voldemort fears _nothing_ ; it is _you_ , boy, who has much reason to be afraid here."

"I'm already scared," Harry admitted. And admitting it, even in his trembling voice, gave him strength to speak on. "I'm scared right now. But you - you were scared before...ten years ago...and you'll still be scared in the future. Scared of some _prophecy_ that doesn't even mean anything! Scared of _me!_ "

"You..." Voldemort trailed off, his eyes widening. "So, you know the prophecy. I see it in your mind. Dumbledore told the Maledictus, and the Maledictus told _you_ in turn. How _foolish_ , the trusting, the noble types. Because in your mind now I see _the_ _full_..."

Harry gasped, screwing his eyes shut as pain exploded in his head, as his scar burned anew, sweat running down his head.

Voldemort stood for a long moment, silent and still. A range of emotions crossed his features. And then, he closed his eyes. "So, that is the rest of the prophecy, is it? A boy I would mark as an equal...a boy with power I know not...Either must die, for neither can live while the other survives? My greatest mistake, it seems, was acting as I did on the information I had all those years ago. Acting that Halloween night...For in doing so I've only..."

He opened his eyes, and turned his gaze to Nagini. He waved his wand, and the sphere flew over to join them; and then it dissipated, dropping Nagini onto the stone ungracefully as could be. "You - creature - you will look into the mirror. You will attempt to get the Stone for me."

* * *

Nagini slithered closer to the mirror, raising herself up to stare into it without a word.

"Retrieve the Stone for me, pledge yourself to me...and I will give you what your soul most desires," Voldemort began, in low tones beside her. "That which we both...most desire...flesh and form again, a full existence in this world again..."

Nagini gazed into the mirror, mesmerized by the sight of the young woman staring back at her. A woman of pale skin and dark hair, and dark brown eyes.

The woman in the mirror set her gaze on Harry's image, and she moved to him and she took him into her arms. Simple as that, she held him, and she stroked at his hair and kissed the top of his head...

"Yes," Voldemort hissed. "I see what you desire so clearly - and it can be a reality. Just as I will use this Stone to forge a new body for myself, I can do the very same for you. All you need to do is find a way to remove it from that mirror, and give me your loyalty."

Nagini drew closer to the mirror, staring up at the woman, up along her form. A sight not seen in decades, an endless eternity in this cursed form...

If it was possible to end it, possible to regain _herself_...

The woman in the mirror gazed back at her, down on her, her lips a frown, her eyes glistening. She looked so contrite, so remorseful...to her own self? She turned her gaze on Voldemort, and then she shook her head.

Nagini had once seen right through another Dark Wizard, his false promises and his lies. This one was no different. Even if it could work for her that way...there was no way this monster of a man would ever share the Philosopher's Stone with her. She knew that, she knew it. And she had refused to join with the enemy before, even as her heart had broken from seeing Credence join with Grindelwald for his own reasons, his desperate desire to know the truth of his identity and past...

While being in the same position was giving her a newfound appreciation for Credence's struggles, Nagini still knew what the right thing to do was. And she had to do it - she had to. Just as she had before. No matter how difficult it was going to be this time. And yet...she couldn't look away. She couldn't stop taking in that sight; she felt like she could have sat here forever, just drinking it in...for she didn't want to let it _disappear_ again...

"M-mum..."

With all her willpower, Nagini turned her head away from the mirror, her eyes settling on Harry. His face was pale, and his wide, glistening green eyes were staring at her - afraid, and _pleading_. Had he just called _her_...? Or was he only calling out for his actual mother...?

"Give me the Stone," Voldemort spoke quietly. "and you can be a _real_ mother to the boy. The one you see in the mirror."

_Harry._

Would Voldemort honestly just let the boy of prophecy _live_ , even if Nagini agreed to join him? It wasn't even a question! Harry would not walk out of this chamber alive, no matter what the outcome was. Voldemort had to finish what he started ten years ago now - now more than ever, knowing the full prophecy, and believing it the truth. That Harry would grow to become some equal, some greatest enemy of his (with power he knew not, even). One fated to kill him, or be killed by him; Voldemort would take it as fact and truth, obsessed with the prophecy as he was.

And Harry...Nagini had promised to protect him from this man - had protected him from others for five years now - and she wasn't going to go back on that, not even for this chance. Even if it _were_ true. This was about Harry, not her. His life, his health, his happiness. His safety.

Nothing else mattered - only the boy she loved, like a son she might have had, but never had. This boy who saw _her_ like the _mother_ he had never had. She wasn't about to disappoint him in that regard.

Nagini looked back into the mirror, and began to employ Occlumency for the first time in decades; holding the image she saw, dragging up the feelings of moments ago and shoving them to the forefront still, weaving those racing thoughts of conflict and desire into the presentation in her mind...

The _real_ image in the mirror disappeared - but just before it did, the woman in the mirror gave her a relieved smile, and the tiniest of nods.

Nagini held it all in her mind, turning to face Voldemort. She gazed up at Quirrell's possessed form. "Is that a promise?"

"It is a promise from Lord Voldemort, yes."

"I've been promised things from Dark Wizards before..."

"Lord Voldemort rewards his followers - and keeps his word to them."

"Does he?" Nagini said casually. And then, with all the speed and power of a magical serpent, she lunged right for Quirrell's wand wrist, clamping onto it and sinking her venomous fangs into it. She tossed her head and threw her weight, pulling the man off balance. She began to wrap around his other arm, and then around his waist, and up finally around his neck. She bit into his wrist repeatedly, viciously, until his fingers jerked and trembled and his wand went rolling away. She let his arm go and brought her head up toward his. She moved around it, and she looked Voldemort in his glinting scarlet eyes. Wide with fear, and rage.

And she struck at that face directly.

She struck again and again, as he screamed and writhed to no avail.

In all the commotion, a series of high squeaks and a new scent filled the chamber - a scurrying little rat was seen racing across the stone - but Nagini ignored it completely. All she had was her instincts, this man, this threat, this _target_ and this _piece of meat_ that was her prey. To be _devoured!_

She struck and bit, on and on, until the body went still, and the arms went slack in her grasp.

Those scarlet eyes dulled, and stared vacant.

A black mist rose from the body, hovering above Nagini - breaking her from her reverie of hunger and murder. Red eyes glowed, gazing upon her. Then, it flew away out of the chamber.

Nagini uncoiled herself from Quirrell, and slithered over to Harry. He was sitting on the floor, staring at Quirrell - at her and back.

"Pettigrew got away - he dropped my wand and turned into a rat," Harry said urgently. "I saw it! It's true, then, it was all true!" he went on excitedly. "My godfather, Black, he-"

"I know, I saw it too." She went over to Harry's wand, picking it up in her mouth and returning to touch it to Harry's palm; Harry took it, holding it in shaking hands still bound. "I need you to free yourself, Harry: the incantation is _Finite_. It's a simple one; I know you can do it."

Harry nodded, screwing up his face with concentration. "Finite!" he said firmly.

Nothing happened.

"Just try again," Nagini said patiently. "Focus on what you want - for the ropes to disappear, for whatever is keeping you on that spot."

"Finite!" Harry shouted out, giving the wand a little swish of his wrist.

The black ropes vanished from around Harry.

"Well done," Nagini said warmly. "Now, we need to get out of here and-"

They turned as racing footsteps came. Dumbledore rushed into the chamber, his wand drawn. He took in the scene as he approached. "Are either of you hurt?"

"Not us," Nagini answered simply.

Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Quirrell. Serious and solemn. "Ah, that would be your familiar handiwork, then..." he muttered out.

"Yes."

"I remember how fast acting your venom is - and how notoriously difficult it is to even recover from." Dumbledore sighed. "Which is to say that very few even stood a chance of doing so." He gave her a look that was _almost_ amused. "You made it very difficult to take enemies alive from the missions you were assigned to - and the ones you undertook on your own."

"You can try and save him, if it means that much to you," Nagini offered, awkward. She herself remembered those times - and it was just as shameful now as back then. Useful, but shameful. Were she still human, she would have blushed.

"I'm afraid poor Quirinus is already lost to us," Dumbledore said softly. "Though not by your...forgive me - _hands._ But by something else."

"Voldemort," Nagini hissed. "He was possessing Quirrell, and working with Peter Pettigrew - he's alive, apparently, and a rat Animagus, just as Black claimed he was. Voldemort was trying to get the Philosopher's Stone."

"Naturally, naturally." Dumbledore peered at her, intense and...sympathetic. "I suppose that Voldemort enlightened you as to some of the other properties and utilities of the Stone...?"

Nagini looked to the empty mirror once more, staring where her human self once had been. For the billionth time over many decades, she wished snakes could cry. "Yes."

"Yet you were not tempted by it."

"I _was_ tempted," Nagini refuted. She looked to Harry. "But I had reasons not to give in to it."

"Alas, once again you prove yourself a far stronger person than I," Dumbledore said quietly.

* * *

Voldemort, formless, less than a ghost, flew across the countryside in search of a place he remembered well.

The boy - Harry Potter - knew the full prophecy. He knew his destiny, and even if he denied it, it _would_ come to pass!

Either Harry Potter would kill Voldemort, or Voldemort would kill him.

Harry would become his equal, his greatest enemy...yet with a power even Voldemort knew not?

What could that power be? How could Voldemort not know of it?

Voldemort was certain of what the mark of an equal was - had seen it in the boy's mind, the conversation with the Maledictus woman: somehow, his defeat that Halloween night, and the curse rebounded by mother's sacrifice, had caused a connection between the two. Caused some of Voldemort's own abilities and power to transfer over to the boy. And that scar of his, it pained him when Voldemort was near...a connection between minds?

No, not minds...minds couldn't be as deep as that, couldn't work out of line of sight, across such distances...

Not minds - _souls?_

Voldemort knew well what he had gone there that night to do - to use the boy's death to create his final Horcrux. He knew the theories, the talk of dangers associated with splitting one's soul more than even once. Was it possible...that those dangers had come to be? Had affected him? And that on that night...on that night something had happened...? Something more...?

Could a fragment of _soul_ have somehow been cast off of Voldemort anyway, and found its way into the boy?

The rebounding curse could have done it, that kind of raw power and energy...the sacrifice that had amplified it further...blowing up the entire house...

Surely not!

But nothing else made sense to Voldemort's keen mind. All of the pieces fit - fit far too well.

It would be a possibility to keep in mind, then. But nothing could be confirmed without further research, and thought, and...more time with the boy. Time to test him, experiment on him. Voldemort could not risk killing him, until he knew for certain. As well, there was another reason to keep the boy alive - to use him in Voldemort's resurrection. If the boy's blood could be incorporated into himself, he was certain he could bypass the mother's protection entirely!

And if the boy _had_ become his final Horcrux that night - a living Horcrux! - then Voldemort already had his seven. And if that was the case...

Yes, _that_ at least, made perfect sense: only Voldemort himself could be his own equal! If the boy had his own soul fragment in him, giving him power and ability, a connection to Voldemort through the scar...

Voldemort had created his own greatest enemy - his own equal in _himself_.

But that equal could not be killed, not yet.

And if it was true...

If it was true, Voldemort was willing to risk destruction of one of his own Horcruxes if he had to, to get rid of the boy! A sacrifice only Lord Voldemort could make! He would kill the boy, free his own soul shard of that boy's body, his _stolen power_ , and then he would go on to create another - a _true, final sixth Horcrux._ With a much more worthy vessel! The Sword of Gryffindor, perhaps (he'd longed to get his hands on it).

Yes, yes, that would do nicely.

But first, Voldemort had much work to do. And soon.

Now that Dumbledore was aware of him, and that Maledictus woman, and it was clear the boy knew his destiny...

Voldemort _could not afford to wait._ He'd spent so much time hiding, away from civilization - avoiding troublesome sightings by people, by potential Aurors - but now he knew he had to throw that caution to the wind.

If he was going to succeed, triumph over the boy, over Dumbledore, he needed to act swiftly. To regain a body, and to kill the boy. Before the boy could grow, learn, become that equal in full. That threat to him, with his own stolen powers!

He had to rid the boy's worthless body of his valuable Horcrux as soon as possible - and rid _himself_ of the boy's threat to him!

He may have been thwarted tonight by Harry Potter, thwarted again, ten years to the day he last had been, but _it would not_ happen a third time! Voldemort would make sure of it.

That was why Voldemort was currently on his way to Malfoy Manor, a risky visit to one of his former followers. One who would doubtless serve him again, in absence of Quirrell and Pettigrew (a choice Voldemort regretted now, forcing that spineless man to help him obtain the Stone after his exposure to the public at large by the Ministry).

Voldemort would give Lucius Malfoy no _choice_ but to serve him again. To make up for abandoning him all this time, never searching for him.

He would also make the man _suffer for it._ And his entire family.


	11. Struggles In Aftermath

"After the events of tonight, I feel you should be given this a slight bit ahead of schedule."

Harry watched as Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk that he swore had never been there before, and pulled out a neatly folded, smooth length of cloth.

"What is it, professor?" Harry asked curiously.

Dumbledore unfolded it, laying it across the desk; it was a cloak. But it was made of the strangest material Harry had ever seen. "This is a very, very rare, very powerful magical object: a cloak of invisibility. This cloak in particular belonged to your father. James entrusted it to me before his death, and I've kept it safe all this time. Until it could be returned to you, Harry. Truthfully, I was waiting to return it to you on Christmas, but, as I've already said, the events of tonight have made me see it would be very unwise to wait. Keep it close, and if ever you find yourself in danger again, simply put it on, and you'll become hidden from the eyes of everyone."

Harry took up the cloak, finding it strange how it ran through his fingers. Like water, almost. It was definitely magical.

"But, I'm afraid only the eyes," Dumbledore continued, an amused note to his voice. "The ears and the nose, not so - and, of course, you must take care not to bump into others around you, lest you give away your position."

Harry looked to Nagini.

"Do you want to try it on?" she questioned.

Harry nodded, standing. He pulled the cloak around himself, and he stared down at himself. His whole body was gone! He grinned to himself and nudged at Nagini's tail with his foot.

She made a sound of exasperation and shook her head. "Albus, look what you've created."

"Rather unfortunately, I don't believe I can ' _look_ ,'" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "As that is the entire point of such a cloak..."

"Harry..." Nagini said, a stern note to her voice.

"What?" Harry removed the cloak.

"This cloak of yours - of your father's - is a tool to help you in dangerous situations," Nagini started seriously. "To hide or escape. But other than that, I'm not going to tell you how you can and can't use it. Except..."

"Except what?" Harry sighed.

"I don't want you using it to cause mischief," Nagini stated. "It's yours do with as you like, but you do still need to be _responsible_ about it. Having such a great power requires integrity, Harry. Respectability. Honor."

"What kinds of things can't I use it for?" Harry responded honestly. "What do you think I'd do with it?"

"I don't know what you'd do with this - but I know what kinds of things I don't want to ever hear you using it for: no spying on people in any context - especially not while undressing - no using it for harassing or bullying of others, and no using it for things like cheating on homework, or stealing things."

"Why would you think I'd use it to watch people undress?" Harry questioned, flushing.

Nagini gave him an intense _look._ "You might find yourself thinking about it, in the next year or two. I'm only making sure you're aware _never_ to do that, if the idea ever comes into your mind."

"It won't!"

"It might," she countered casually. "I know from experience what it's like to have a special power that lets you sneak about - spy - see people in their most vulnerable times, and at the most _inappropriate_ times. You know I was born able to become this, and back again, before it became permanent." She hesitated, and her voice held embarrassment as she went on with, "I used it in many ways I shouldn't have, when I was around your age. Violated many people's sense of privacy, for my own selfish reasons. I'm only trying to make sure you're aware of how to be responsible, the way I wasn't when I was much younger. I don't need to see you making my same mistakes, Harry."

"W-well, I won't, alright?" Harry stuttered out swiftly. "I wouldn't do that - that's just...weird."

"I'm glad to hear that," Nagini replied simply. "Other than those things, you can feel free to use it however you want."

"Alright," Harry said quickly.

* * *

Harry kept the cloak stuffed in his robes as he entered the Hufflepuff dormitories - having been escorted by both Dumbledore and Nagini together (Dumbledore had mentioned in his office that Quirrell, that _Voldemort_ had let in a troll as a distraction while he made his move for the Stone, and that he thought it best not to assume Voldemort hadn't left any _other_ surprises around the castle tonight as well).

"Harry?!"

"You're okay?"

Two voices called, one full of relief and joy, and the other, flat as could be - but the face of the latter's owner reflected just as strongly the emotions of the former's.

Susan and Tamara came racing up to Harry - the latter throwing her arms around him!

Harry blushed, but hugged the girl back.

"The troll didn't get you?" Tamara questioned, with rapid movements of her hands, intensely worried eyes sweeping Harry up and down.

"Err, no," he answered quickly. "But- something...else...did. I'll tell you both about it if we can go somewhere private."

"Nobody's in our dorm right now," Susan replied, pointing to the decoratively painted door.

"Right, that'll work," Harry muttered, nodding.

He followed the girls through the door, into a neat, wide room identical to his own dormitory. Cool colored walls, a big table against a wall with several chairs, and the beds and dressers in their nice row along another wall.

Tamara grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him over to a bed. They sat down together - the three of them.

"What happened?" Tamara signed, peering at him with wide, glistening eyes. Harry was pleased to realize he understood her question, even without the magic vocalizer aid that was heard a second after she'd finished her motions of hands.

Harry told them. About why he hadn't been at the feast, about how he'd encountered Quirrell - and Pettigrew. And Voldemort. About the Stone. About everything. What it meant for his godfather, for Sirius Black.

"So he's really innocent, then," Tamara signed excitedly, a thin smile on her lips. "That's great!"

"It's not great," Susan said. "Are you even sure that man was Peter Pettigrew? Are you sure it wasn't all just a trick? Isn't the timing suspicious? Sirius Black writes to you in a letter about his innocence, about a frame job, and then only a few weeks later you run into the supposedly dead Peter Pettigrew at Hogwarts?"

"You don't even know what you're talking about!" Harry snapped, rising. "I guess Quirrell isn't really dead then? I guess Voldemort wasn't really there. I guess the Stone wasn't even really there, was it? Do you think I lied, made it all up or something? Or that I was just seeing things?"

"I'm just saying that magic can do a lot of things to make...make things look one way, but it isn't," Susan replied carefully. "There are all sorts of spells to mess with your memory, and potions to take on other people's appearances. What if Black contacted someone else besides you on the outside, and he told them to come here and do this? To 'prove' his claims? It still doesn't _really_ prove anything."

"Nagini gave me those same reasons for why it can be true!" Harry retorted.

"And that's exactly my point; all I'm saying is it can still go either way," Susan said quickly. "Nobody knows anything still, not for sure! Not until both of them are questioned, if it really was Pettigrew - not until Ministry measures are used to figure it all out. Trained professionals who deal with this kind of thing all the time! Just because Pettigrew might have shown up alive doesn't mean you just jump to the opposite end of the spectrum about Black! It doesn't mean he's totally innocent now, suddenly!"

Harry glared at her, working his jaw. Then he sighed. "I guess you're right," he admitted - very grudgingly. Dumbledore had said the same thing before, when he'd first read the letter from Black. That was the whole reason Black was even getting a trial. So that trained people could question him about it all. And they did still need to find Pettigrew, to question _him_ too.

But Pettigrew was gone.

He'd run away.

The man had been _right there_ , Harry had _seen him,_ and then he'd disappeared.

Was Pettigrew ever going to be found again now?

Especially if people wouldn't even believe it - like Susan didn't.

Harry wished he could have been able to stop Pettigrew. He should have known some kind of magic, some spell for that! If he had, he could've just waved his wand and stopped him from escaping! He could've proven it to everyone, gotten Black out with no questions!

A small, ugly part of Harry even voiced the bitter thought that he wished Nagini could have been a human; _she_ could have just waved her wand and stopped Pettigrew, surely! She could have gotten that whole situation under control much sooner. She could have fixed it all for them, for Harry!

Or, that ugly part of him continued on, even as a snake she could have chosen to go after Pettigrew after taking down Quirrell. But she'd been so focused on him, on Voldemort, that she'd just let Pettigrew transform and get away.

Harry sat down again with a growl, taking his head in his hands. He felt instantly ashamed of himself for thinking such nasty things about Nagini.

* * *

With Professor Quirrell's death, Dumbledore took up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position himself.

It turned out to be exactly what Harry needed - wanted: actually learning spells he could use in situations like the one on Halloween.

Harry almost thought Dumbledore knew what he was thinking in this regard; in their first lesson, Dumbledore had looked right at him as he spoke about the usefulness of spells like these, defensive and incapacitating alike, and how even school age children might find them useful in dangerous situations with adults in the world who might want to hurt them.

Throughout the months of November and December, they learned the Shield Charm, and the Full Body-Bind Curse (which caused you to instantly seize up and freeze - and often lose your balance and hit hard on the training mats Dumbledore had conjured up!).

To Harry's surprise - but pleasure - he was actually really _good_ at these practical lessons. Maybe it was because he was motivated, though, more than most of the others in his class. Or maybe, a part of him spoke in a snide voice, maybe he was only good at this kind of magic because of Voldemort. Because he'd given him his powers. Harry did his best never to listen to that voice, but he still couldn't help worrying over it.

He worried so much that he asked Dumbledore about it after class one day.

Dumbledore confessed it was _possible_ , but that even if it was, it didn't matter. Just like it didn't matter that he was a parselmouth because of Voldemort.

"You used that gift to befriend and communicate with an ailing, lost woman," Dumbledore spoke gently. "Something good, and wonderful, and compassionate as could be. The same would be true of any dueling prowess you might have inherited from Voldemort - though I think it _unlikely,_ if possible. You see, Harry? It isn't our abilities that define who we are - it is what we _choose to do with them._ Voldemort may choose to use his abilities to hurt and terrorize, but you use them to help others. This is true of any two mages in the world with the same general magical ability in them."

Harry admittedly felt a lot better about things after that - though, the worries never completely went away.

By the time Christmas came around, Harry was in a generally normal mood. A happy one.

He and Susan hadn't had any more arguments over Black and Pettigrew - they were both carefully avoiding that - and Harry was looking forward to staying at Hogwarts for Christmas.

Harry would have two whole weeks with Nagini! And get to have a proper Christmas with her, too, for first time; they'd never celebrated _that_ back at the Dursleys.

As well, Harry was excited by the possibilities of exploring Hogwarts with his dad's invisibility cloak - Nagini would be satisfied with that.

Harry had sent and received a few more letters to and from Remus and Mary, but he hadn't sent one to Black again yet.

Harry wasn't sure how to even tell the man he fully believed him now - and that he'd been within arm's reach of Pettigrew and had to watch him escape.

But he'd try. In Nagini's quarters, he sat down to write a letter, with her right by his side.

Shaking hands traced letters, and tears fell to smudge the ink and blotch the parchment.

_I saw him, I found him. Pettigrew. He was here with Quirrell and Voldemort, trying to take something of Dumbledore's. Something to give Voldemort a body again. Nagini stopped Voldemort, stopped Quirrell. But Pettigrew got away. He transformed, I saw him do it, and he got away. I couldn't do anything, I was tied up, and I didn't know any spells to stop him with! But if I had I would have, if I had you wouldn't be stuck in there. I guess for all this time you were stuck in there because of Pettigrew, but now you're in there because of me. And I'm really sorry, I'm so so sorry! I should've done something, I wish I could've just done something! But I will next time - Dumbledore's been personally teaching us some DADA lessons. Spells we can use. The Shield Charm and the Full Body-Bind Curse. Next time I see Pettigrew, I'll hit him with it a dozen times over! I'll make sure he doesn't get away again. I won't make the same mistake! I won't fail you again, I promise._

Harry wrapped his arms around himself and scooted back, letting the ink set, sniffling and trying to hold his tears back as hard as he could. But it was a failing effort, that.

"Harry, you're not sending this one." Nagini gazed at the parchment, then she slithered onto him and wrapped around his waist, pressing her face to his as she rose up along his shoulder. "Because _none of this is true_ : this is _not_ your fault! It was all _my fault_ , if we're going to blame anyone, between the two of us. I should have let go of Voldemort sooner, I should have gone after Pettigrew as well. But you were just a child, and you didn't know any magic; you couldn't have done a thing, and you never could have been expected to! And I'm sure that you're godfather won't blame you for not."

"Y-you're right - it _is_ your fault - _you_ should've stopped him!" The words were hurled out viciously before Harry could stop them. His voice quaking, a hitched breath drawn at the end. "I- I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he instantly cried, horrified and ashamed of himself.

"No - it's the truth," Nagini said softly. "I could have secured your godfather's freedom, but I didn't. I'm the one who made the mistake that night, not you. I'm happy you told me how you feel; we haven't talked much about it, have we?"

"I h-haven't wanted to..."

"That's why we haven't," Nagini agreed. "Since we're being honest now, I'll tell you the other way that I messed things up that night. When I attacked Voldemort, the reason I didn't go after Pettigrew...I lost myself. To instincts, to rage, to the drive to kill. To eat. This form isn't just a change of body, Harry - it comes with all sorts of feelings. The feelings any true animal feels. For decades before I met you, all I ever did was give in to those feelings; I let time pass me by, I let the world move around me without much notice. But, then I met you, and I started using my brain again. Except...for that Halloween night. I lost myself then, for the first time in five years, and I was just the serpent again. Kill the threat, eat the prey. That was all I was. And because of _that_ , I didn't notice Pettigrew was escaping. I didn't even care."

"Y-you couldn't help it; it's just- how your...condition is!"

Nagini gave a soft laugh. "You're still so sweet, Harry. Thank you. But I agree with you - that's too charitable. Far too charitable. The one who deserves the blame is me. If I could use a quill, I'd be writing my own apology to Sirius Black."

"I don't _really_ think that, I'm sorry!" Harry insisted.

"It's still what you said - and that's alright. How many times have I told you it's _healthy_ to say what we feel, not to bottle it all up?"

"A few times..."

"Oh, you _know_ it's been more than a few," Nagini countered lightly.

Harry breathed, wiping at his eyes and nose and moving his chair to the desk again. He crumpled up the parchment and threw it in a bin. "I'll write another one," he said quietly, pulling out a blank sheet.

"Good." Nagini turned head to gaze down at the desk's surface, the better to watch Harry write his new letter.


	12. Christmas Miracle

_"The boy is necessary to my return - but he will be killed after I have. And the creature that was once a woman...she will be killed as well, but not before being made to suffer for preventing me from getting the Stone - and for robbing me of my vessel in Quirrell. For daring to attack Lord Voldemort in such a vile, primitive manner. Both will feel my wrath before they die. Bring them to me, Lucius; I care not for just how you do it, only that you do it within the week."_

_"Y-yes, My Lord. Of course."_

* * *

Harry Potter woke up on Christmas eve's morning with a burning scar.

It wasn't anything new - it had been doing that for weeks now. Ever since Halloween. Since meeting Voldemort himself.

But it was still bothersome.

This time was even more bothersome - because it didn't fade, like usual. It was constant, pained and shooting, like electricity.

It made it very difficult to enjoy the day with Nagini (though he did his best). The decorations were wonderful, and the snow looked amazing over the castle grounds. Like something out of a picture.

With most everyone back at home, back with _families_ \- including Susan and Tamara - Harry had the whole run of the Hufflepuff dorm, practically. There was only a single other first year staying too, and two seventh years he spotted coming and going from the common room entrance.

The first year girl was named Evelyn, Harry recalled. Evelyn Milgrid.

Luckily, Harry remembered her name _before_ she approached him in the common room!

She emerged out of the girl's dormitory, gliding through the common room in her enchanted, hovering chair. It had nice cushions and silver footrests. Her hands gripped the arm rests, shifting with her body's weight to direct the chair's movements. Direct it to glide right over to Harry.

"Oh - Evelyn! - hey," Harry greeted, sitting up a little straighter. "You're staying for Christmas, too."

"Yeah," she muttered out, coming to a stop in front of him. Long shimmering hair hung as she bowed her head, her hands folded in her lap. "I guess it's just us."

Evelyn was always like this; Harry still hadn't figured out if she was just shy, or if she outright disliked other people and couldn't stand to even talk to them. She didn't seem to have any friends - or even anyone she just hung out around, as far as Harry had seen of her between and after classes. Maybe Harry could fix that, he thought to himself. If it was just the two of them for the next week or so left of winter break...

"Have you been around the castle lately?" Harry asked. "All the Christmas decorations...it's- well- _pretty_ , isn't it?" he said with a blush.

Evelyn's head came up at last. Her dark eyes took him in with surprise. Then she smiled. "I haven't left the dorm much. But the view out the window is just as pretty," she murmured.

"It really is," Harry agreed, encouraged. This was the most he'd gotten out of her in months now of...well, you could hardly call it "interacting" at all. He wasn't sure they'd even said more than four words to one another since arriving at Hogwarts, honestly!

"So why aren't you at home?" Harry asked.

Evelyn ducked her head again, her hands clasped firmly in her lap now. "I just didn't feel like it. It's my first year here - I wanted to see what a magical Christmas was like..."

"It's been amazing so far," said Harry, nodding.

"Yes..."

Silence in the common room.

"Err, so would you like to play chess or something?" Harry suggested.

Evelyn shook her head - those strands of dark black rippled under firelight again. "I'm busy...library - I have essays to do..."

"I could help you with them."

"No."

"Alright..." Harry sighed.

Evelyn sighed, too, shoulders heaving. Her hands came apart in her lap and gripped the arms of her hoverchair again. "See you, Harry..." She spun around and drifted off out the common room's portrait exit without another word or glance back.

Harry slumped back down on the sofa, gazing into the fire.

He winced as his scar gave another painful pulse, and rubbed at it furiously.

What was its problem lately, really?

* * *

On Christmas morning Harry's scar troubled him more than ever!

It was nearly ten minutes of quivering in his bed, gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to vomit; his scar hadn't been this terrible since Halloween night itself.

But it did fade, returning to its usual level of irritation.

Harry uncurled himself and got out of his bed, and he noticed the presents next to his bed.

He had presents? Actual presents?

Harry hurried to open them, gathering them up and setting them on his bed.

The first was from Hagrid - some of his special rock cakes, and a wooden flute.

The second, surprisingly, said it was from Lupin; it was a box of magical candies, and a book on useful spells for dueling (Lupin, like Black, and like Nagini, had refused to let Harry take the blame for Pettigrew escaping - but he was encouraging of Harry's desire to learn combat spells).

There was a small present that said it was from Professor Dumbledore, which turned out to be a small pin with a stylized gold feather on it. A note explained that this was a very specially charmed item, by Dumbledore himself, which would detect the casting of powerful dark curses in his direction and act to block them automatically. Dumbledore's note stated that there should be very few forms of magic out there that it would not be able to block - or at least lessen the damages of. But even for those rare magics, the note said, Dumbledore had created a very unique enchantment that might be able to help against them...once or twice, anyway.

Harry was incredibly touched that the man had gone to such efforts to give him more protection - to keep him safe. He put the pin on his nightstand and moved on to the next few gifts he had left now.

The next gift said it was from Susan - more candies to add to his collection, and a small note wishing him a happy Christmas.

Harry smiled and set the candy aside, reaching for the third to last present: it was from Tamara.

Tamara's present was a box of chocolates, and a sheet of parchment that detailed a spell - the Impervious Charm - which she told him would keep his glasses from getting dirty, wet, dusty or even scratched. Though, she had also written that how good it was and how long it lasted depended on the caster of the spell; it might need reapplying every few hours, or days, or weeks, etc.

With a warmth in his chest, Harry carefully rolled up the parchment and set it on his nightstand. That was definitely a new spell he'd be doing his best to master over the next few days!

His second to last present was from Nagini. It was light and thin, and Harry opened it up to find several sheets of paper - and photographs.

Her note read: **I know you've always been curious about my life - more so since coming to Hogwarts. So I asked Albus to help me track down as many of these articles and photos as I could. Some of them are official, and some of them were more personal - his own photos, kept all these years.**

Harry stared at the top picture, picking it up carefully, mesmerized. It was magical, moving; a pale woman of dark hair and dark brown eyes was posing with a bearded man with very familiar blue eyes, both smiling together.

He turned it over and found names on the back: Nagini Siahaan and Albus Dumbledore - April 3, 1935.

Harry caressed the photo, smiling at it for minutes on end. Then, he carefully placed it - and the rest of the photos and articles - into his nightstand drawer. He'd look at them all later, as often and intensely as he did the photos of his parents that he'd gotten so far.

The last present said it was from Evelyn! An expensive, charmed object, the note explained. Her way of making up for yesterday? Or had she bought it for Harry far in advance? Either way...

Harry opened up the present and found a small box, inside which there lay a small gold bracelet with a blue stone in it.

Harry put it on immediately, happily. A warmth ran through him, and he immediately felt like he never wanted to take it off again! He glanced down at the note to finish reading it. It said that the bracelet had a special, colorful effect if you took it outside - but that it wouldn't work because of Hogwarts enchantments.

Harry stood, moving to his trunk and digging through it until he reached his dad's invisibility cloak at the very bottom, folded neatly as it was. He grinned to himself; he felt like this was a pretty responsible use of the cloak - acceptable to Nagini.

He got dressed in winter clothes, then put the invisibility cloak on, and he left the dorms.

Harry would just go out past the gates, then - where he'd learned from Nagini and Dumbledore that the Hogwarts enchantments ended their reach.

Harry moved through the castle, and then he left the entrance hall, setting out into the snow and cold.

He trudged his way down the path, reaching the gates some minuets later.

Harry grinned and held up his arm before himself as he began to take the last steps out past the open gates, off the grounds.

He wondered what it would do. Something like fireworks, or maybe a rainbow, or-

"Harry? Are you using your cloak? I can smell you, but I can't see you." Nagini's voice suddenly hissed out.

Harry turned and pulled off his cloak, beaming at her. "Right here!"

"There you are," Nagini agreed pleasantly.

Harry looked at her, struck by the sight of a gold ring around Nagini's tail end, with a blue gem glistening in the sunlight. "We have matching presents," Harry grinned, holding up his arm to her.

"We do," Nagini replied, nodding. "Who was yours from?"

"Evelyn - a first year girl."

"She sent me this," Nagini answered, indicating her tail with a little flick. "She expressed sympathies about being trapped by one's physical condition," she elaborated, sounding genuinely touched. "She thought some accessorizing would make things more bearable for me." This last part was said with a good dose of humor.

"I didn't know she was so thoughtful," Harry said. "Or that she even noticed anybody else. Well, this is supposed to have some kind of effect out here, so I was going to see what it does," he went on, feeling the strong urge and excitement to act on words.

"Mine, too," Nagini answered, slithering forward. "Let's see what they do; it's likely something beautiful."

Harry gazed at his arm as he stepped past the gates with Nagini.

The gem began to glow, the gold of the bracelet rippled like a liquid, almost -

And then there was a violent _tug_ and a burst of light, and Harry's world was changing.

Twisting and shifting, squeezing - darkness - sight and sound morphed-

And then it was over.

Harry fell forward into a dark room, onto hard floor.

He glanced around himself immediately, taking in the sight of three people - two he didn't know, and one he did!

Peter Pettigrew was the one he recognized.

Harry saw the wands held casually in hands as these three people talked to each other, as a high voice hissed...

And he immediately jerked his arm and let his cloak fall over Nagini, turning the motion into an attempt to push himself to his feet.

He took out his own wand and aimed it right at Pettigrew, and he yelled, "Petrificus-"

Three jets of light flew for Harry in return, red lights, and they struck him in the chest.

Harry lost consciousness.

When he returned to it, he had a heavy aching in his chest, and his situation was entirely different.

The dark room was lit now by torches and a large fireplace; it was a dining hall. The floor was marble, the walls had paintings on them.

Harry was bound by chains to the wall, hanging by his wrists.

A silver-haired man (familiar somehow) stood with Pettigrew in the middle of the hall, along with a dark haired woman...and an instantly familiar sight of a person.

"Malfoy?" Harry spoke, shocked and confused. "What the _shite_ is-"

"I'd watch your language in my home, boy," the silver haired man snapped out. "Especially when you're talking to my son."

Harry stared. This was Malfoy's...father? Then the woman had to be his mother?

Why was Harry here? Why was Nagini? Why had they- why was Pettigrew...?

"It was all a trick! My present - Nagini's present-" Harry burst out. He hesitated, anger simmering. "What did you to do make Evelyn-"

"Your gifts were my doing, yes," Malfoy's father interrupted him smoothly. "Lucius Malfoy, pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Potter. Unfortunately, it seems as if one of them failed. Perhaps the Imperius wasn't applied correctly to that damaged half-blood girl - it was never my specialty to begin with, and to make a chain...well, no matter, for my Master desires _you_ much more greatly than that beast."

Harry glanced away, trying to hide his relief. So they thought Nagini hadn't even gotten here! He didn't want to risk looking around for her, if she was still under his cloak. But he didn't feel as scared as he might have, with that knowledge; he knew she'd choose the right time to strike - like last time. He just had to trust her. Trust that she'd figure the situation out, and figure out a way to get them out of here safely.

He just had to trust her, and wait.

It was easier than it sounded, in a situation like this.

"Your Master," Harry spoke up loudly. "You mean Voldemort. You're working for him!"

"Don't say his name," Lucius snapped, his voice quavering.

"Why? What're you afraid of?" Harry taunted. "A man who lost to a baby, and then lost to an eleven year old kid! Why're you even working for someone who's such a big failure?" He gazed at Pettigrew as he said this; the man looked at him fearfully, shamefully, and then he turned away entirely.

"Enough out of you," Lucius spoke, flicking his wand. A cloth gag materialized over Harry's mouth. "I didn't bring you here to listen to you run your mouth at us. You're here for a very important reason - and not for childish bantering."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man in silence now. He looked to Draco, who looked paler than usual and was trembling - and wouldn't look at Harry at all.

Lucius gripped his son's shoulder and turned him away, then he strode over to Pettigrew. "Let's begin, shall we? The sooner we get this done...the sooner our Lord can..."

Pettigrew gave a shaky nod, and he lifted his wand and began to cast all sorts of spells.

Magical lights rippled over the walls, across the floor, and a giant cauldron appeared in the middle of the empty dining hall.

A burning fire roared under it instantly, magical and without any wood.

Pettigrew took up a knife, and he cut his arm and held it over the cauldron. "Flesh of the servant, willingly g-given, you will revive your master..." Then, he looked at Harry. He dithered on the spot, wincing to himself and looking down at his feet. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken...you will resurrect...your foe." Then he gave his wand a flick; a small stinging pain seared on Harry's neck, and Harry watched his blood flow across the room and stream right into the cauldron.

Pettigrew flicked his wand again, and the blood flow stopped.

The cauldron had changed now, the contents, smoke rising...

Pettigrew gave his wand one last wave, and a bone flew into the cauldron with a hiss.

Lucius looked to the woman, hesitant. "M-My Lord...it is...prepared now for you."

The woman's head turned, and her eyes glinted scarlet as she looked to the cauldron. " _Good..._ " the high voice of Voldemort issued from her mouth. " _You've done well, Lucius. And as promised, I will release your precious Narcissa to you now; I've no more need for her. And your family shall be rewarded for being so cooperative - Lord Voldemort can begin to forgive you..."_

"T-thank you, My Lord...we're grateful," Lucius swallowed hard with relief.

Suddenly a green shape, glistening in firelight, emerged out of thin air and a spot on the floor, and darted across the dining hall!

Harry yelled through the gag as Nagini went shooting up over the side of, and plunging right into, the huge cauldron!

Wormtail looked horrified, backing away from the cauldron with his wand aimed at it.

Voldemort shrieked, _"NO!"_ The eyes of the possessed woman burned murderous scarlet. Then, the woman crumpled as black smoke exploded out of her. A shroud of that smoke formed above the woman, with glowing red eyes in it.

 _No, please, Nagini, you're going to die, you're going to drown in there!_ Harry screamed in his mind, begging. _Please, you can't die, please live, please live - please live! I love you, please don't leave! You're like my mum, you're like my mum and I can't lose another one!_

The color changed, bubbles began to burst over the sides, and then-

The cauldron melted, and exploded in a brilliant light of blue.

Steam and smoke swirled about, covering the area.

Then, the haze dissipated.

Harry stared, mouth agape (as best he could with a gag) - Wormtail stared, his wand shaking.

Crouched where the cauldron once was, was a woman. A woman familiar to Harry, seen only in old photos of a war long past, not even an hour ago! An asian woman with long, messy dark hair, pale skin completely bared in nakedness, and dark brown eyes - she looked to be in her thirties. She looked around with swift, jerking motions of her head, her eyes hyper-focused. Her gaze found Harry, and those dark eyes softened. But then they landed on Wormtail, and they became narrow slits.

" _Kill her!_ " that high voice hissed, echoing through the hall - everywhere at once now.

The woman moved, so fast, so agile and precise, rushing Wormtail low. She twisted left as a purple light burst from Wormtail's wand, avoiding the curse (it hit the wall of the dining hall, blowing apart a huge section of it to reveal the hallway), then she threw herself forward into a roll, coming up right in front of him! She uppercutted him in the jaw, seized his wand wrist and forced it to point high into the air, then she punched him across the face twice over.

She hooked a bare ankle behind his heel and pulled, shoving him in the chest at the same time, sending him slamming to the floor. She twisted the wrist she still held sharply to one side, eliciting a high scream from Wormtail, and she ripped his wand free of his grasp.

The woman flicked the wand down at Wormtail like a striking serpent, vicious and swift; red light burst from the tip, hitting Wormtail and sending him unconscious. Then she was whirling away toward Lucius as the man moved, sending a green jet of light right for him!

Lucius evaded it with wide eyes, his own wand drawn now.

Draco's mother, Narcissa, free of possession had woken. She stood up and drew her wand too, and started forward, her eyes glinting with their own darkness.

In all the chaos, Harry saw Draco race out of the hall entirely.

Almost faster than Harry could track, the woman turned and flashed out her arm, and a dark purple bolt of lightning flew toward Narcissa in the blink of an eye; it struck the woman in the chest, sending her flying back into the wall. Narcissa's robes melted away, and black smoke rose from her chest as _it too_ began to melt.

Raw fury darkened Lucius's gaze, and he aimed his wand at the woman and returned fire with a green light of his own.

The woman evaded it with a swift, easy duck and a twirl, waving her wand wordlessly about, slashing and jabbing, casting a flurry of spells in a row, without even saying a word: the floor beneath Lucius became bubbling liquid, and he fell down up to his knees; a marble table conjured itself out of thin air and slammed down on Lucius's extended wand arm, crushing it and pinning it; a heavy torch bracket transformed into a heavy black cannonball, which flew across the room to smack into the back of Lucius's head.

The man keeled over, dazed but still conscious. His wand burst with energy, which shot off wildly past the woman, burning a hole through the wall behind her.

The woman aimed her wand at him very carefully, and a jet of green light flashed out for Lucius; it struck him in the chest, and he collapsed instantly. No more movement, no more noises of exertion. The woman paused, glancing around the hall with sharp, dark brown eyes - it was empty and silent now.

Voldemort was gone again, then...

But Pettigrew wasn't. Not again. Not this time!

The woman strode toward Lucius and stooped down, and retrieved his wand. She took Pettigrew's wand, too, and then Narcissa's (who was now as unmoving as Lucius). She dug into Narcissa's robes and pulled out a fourth, familiar wand - Harry's own! With a satisfied look on her face, she straightened up again, and her eyes found Harry once more.

She made a detour to the corner of the room to pick up Harry's invisibility cloak. Then, she hurried up to him, waving her wand as she did; Harry's binds were severed, the gag vanished, and he fell forward onto the marble floor. She was there to catch him, holding his arms. She gazed into his eyes, her lips forming a smile, and then she was pulling him into a fierce hug. She caressed him and stroked his hair, pulling him right into her bared breasts. "Harry," she whispered, in a voice so familiar - so full of care and _love_. "I've wanted to do this for five years now..."

"N-Nagini?" Harry voiced, choked. He didn't doubt it, it had been obvious the moment she'd emerged - but to voice it made it _so real._

Nagini drew away, nodding to him. "Yes, it's me, Harry." She paused, then she took his face in hands and kissed his forehead - repeatedly!

"Okay, okay, stop!" Harry flushed. "Shouldn't we get back to Hogwarts? And...we have people to bring with us, don't we?" he voiced with deepest gratitude, casting a look at Pettigrew. He paused, glancing at Nagini's figure and then away. "And- and _you're naked!_ " he added, flushing intensely.

Nagini glanced down at herself, as if just realizing her state - or lack of one (Harry supposed living as a snake for decades made the absence of clothes a non-concern). She gave a serious nod, and waved her wand down at herself; a long dress of green appeared on her body. She then gave her wand a wave around the area. Wormtail suddenly transformed, becoming nothing but a simple pocket watch, which zoomed over into Nagini's waiting hand. She clenched it tight, and then she took Harry's hand with her free one, and her face was filled with intense concentration.

"Wait, what about Malfoy?" Harry spoke up.

Nagini's face relaxed, and she looked at him. There was agonizing anguish there - remorse, fear, guilt, so many things... "We'll bring him to Hogwarts with us." She gazed out the dining hall doorway. "Come - we need to find him."

It wasn't easy - to find Malfoy, or get him to go with them.

But in the end, Nagini managed it...regrettably by force; she just grabbed the boy's arm in a deathgrip, as she tried to concentrate again in that strange way...

And then world shifted again.

But different from last time.

When they reappeared, they were outside the gates of Hogwarts.

* * *

Hours later, after many Aurors had come and gone, and many conversations had been had - very lengthy conversations - it was all finally over. The Aurors took Pettigrew away, and Malfoy was taken to the hospital wing by Professor Snape (as the man was head of Slytherin). As for Evelyn, she was taken to the hospital wing too - not for physical injuries or anything, either, though. She didn't even know she'd been under such a curse, a mind controlling one - all she had told the Aurors, Dumbledore, and Harry (along with profuse apologies) was that she'd had a bit of a dizzy spell the other day, and had found herself doing things she never planned on doing before.

Harry told her he was just glad she wasn't hurt, and that it wasn't her fault. He'd never blame her for it! Nagini had voiced the same sentiment, and even hugged Evelyn.

Hours after it was all over, Dumbledore invited Harry and Nagini to his office alone.

They sat together, drinking hot cocoa and saying nothing - for so many different reasons, all of them.

Uncertainty, fear, shock, relief.

It was mixed emotions all around, really.

"If the ritual was meant to bring back an enemy, using an enemy...how come it even worked for Nagini at all?" Harry asked at last, breaking their silence.

"Interestingly enough, Harry, my dear boy, from the sound of things, it very nearly didn't," Dumbledore spoke cheerily. He looked to Nagini, smiling bright. "But something in there made it work for her, regardless - a secret ingredient, you could say..."

"What was it that made it work?" Harry pressed.

"Love," Nagini spoke softly. "The love in my soul for you, Harry, is what made it work."

"And young Harry's love for you, in return," Dumbledore added. "The love in his blood for you, his mother's love for him in his blood as well. Had none of that been there, so compatible and welcoming of one another, it never would have succeeded. But that love and willingness, that bond of soul and heart, was enough to come together and make the potion work for you despite the alteration to the ritual that should have spelled disaster - should have very well ruined the entire thing. Harry wished for it to work for you, as much as you wished it to work for you. Your will to survive it, his will for you to survive it. A bond, a power, and a pull unmatched by anything else in this world."

Nagini wordlessly stood up, pushing back her chair. She hesitated, and then she transformed into her familiar serpent's form. A heartbeat of terror passed for Harry before she reverted again, becoming human once more. She sat down again, joy and relief mingling with worry as she looked at Dumbledore across the office desk.

"How long is this second lease on life going to last?" she spoke. "Another thirty years, until I'm trapped a second time? Or is it going to be tomorrow, or a few hours from now? How long can this last? Or did the dark, unusual nature of the ritual - including all the unusualness involving love's power, Harry's and his mother's, and mine for him - disrupt the curse in my blood so thoroughly that it won't close in on me again? Does the curse assume I'm still trapped - was it even destroyed inside me, somehow?"

"I'm afraid there's no way of knowing," Dumbledore said quietly, somber and serious.

"Then every second should be made to count," Nagini decided. "For myself, and for Harry. I want him to have a home he can come back to with me. I want to be the one he can think of as a parent - he already _does_ , we just need it to be official," she amended, with a look at Harry that had him blushing.

But Harry nodded at her. He remembered Halloween, calling out for her like that - they hadn't talked about it, not like they had his misplaced guilt and responsibility. But again it had come up, today; he'd thought about her that way, in his head, he'd begged for her - told her and Dumbledore about it so plainly here in this office.

Harry hadn't ever been sure if she'd _liked_ the idea of that, but now he was sure she wasn't opposed to it. And that felt...wonderful to realize.

"I'll do my best to help you in your endeavors. But if Sirius Black is to be freed soon - as I hope he will be - he will doubtlessly want to be the one to raise Harry," Dumbledore replied kindly.

"It won't be a problem," Nagini stated. "We can come to an agreement of some kind, I'm sure."

"Certainly - it need not be a competition," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling. "I'm certain Harry will be delighted to have so many people looking out for his wellbeing - and his happiness."

Harry couldn't have agreed more with the statement - just how true it was.


	13. A Return To Form

The boy was not yet the problem - no problem at all - Voldemort told himself.

It was his protector, it was that Maledictus woman. Twice now, _she_ had robbed Voldemort of his return - the second time, stealing his own resurrection right out from under his nose! Somehow using it for herself; it never should have been possible - it should have _killed her_! Melted her to nothing, turned her body to worthless sludge.

So why? How?!

How it had it actually _worked on her?!_ How had she come out of it whole and healthy?

Well, she had some knowledge and skill in the Dark Arts, evidenced by that brief duel Voldemort had overseen of hers with the Malfoys and Pettigrew. Perhaps that knowledge had led her to some morsel that had allowed her to circumvent Voldemort's ritual, reform herself with it successfully?

Yes, that would fit.

Regardless of reason or method, Voldemort would never get to Harry Potter as long as that woman was at his side.

She was strong, skilled, resourceful and _clever_ , he admitted - and old. Older than him. She'd fought against Grindelwald for fifteen years, used her curse as an asset in that old war that Voldemort hardly remembered taking place during his school days. Fifty years ago, as a boy named Tom Riddle. And now she had a strong, youthful body when she should have been _old and decrepit by now!_

Voldemort had underestimated the woman, he admitted too. Dismissed her because of her form, because of his lack of knowledge of her in general.

But he would not do so again.

Especially not now, now that she had somehow...somehow stolen his resurrection for herself.

She would be even more dangerous now - and undoubtedly even more dedicated to protecting Harry Potter.

Voldemort would have to remove _her_ first, before attempting to take the life of Harry Potter again.

But before even that...Voldemort needed to return. He _needed_ a body again, himself!

The resurrection ritual in particular, while the most prominent and straightforward way of returning to body and life again, _was not the only way_.

Yes, Voldemort had researched and learned over decades, and he knew a dozen alternative means of returning to form.

Only, he had never expected to actually need to choose between those _lesser_ alternatives. But it was necessary now, and so he would work with the options he had.

After being robbed and denied his resurrection twice now in the span of a few months, Voldemort's frustration and desperation was so great that he told himself he would allow himself to return _without_ using Potter in his resurrection plans. He simply _needed_ to return to strength and body - he could find a way to deal with the boy _later_. Yes, later and at leisure, Voldemort assured himself.

For right now, he needed to focus on his return. A viable, alternative method.

The method he felt would work as second best was...

* * *

The day after Christmas, Nagini Siahaan woke up in a bed for the first time in fifty years now.

Well, woke up in it in a human form. She'd slept by Harry's side plenty of times as a serpent; this time, for first time, she was sleeping with him as a human.

He'd come to her quarters late last night, under his invisibility cloak, voicing in a quiet, high voice that he wanted to spend the night with her. She'd allowed him to, of course. It had been a very stressful, emotional day yesterday. And, in her opinion, even after months now at Hogwarts, Harry really wasn't adjusting all to well to being apart from her - especially at night. Alone. He'd always had trouble with that, but now...she thought those troubles had only been worsening with time apart.

So they'd slept, and she had wrapped her arms around Harry as he clung to her, as he cried for reasons probably related to both joy and worries.

Worries Nagini felt she understood. Feelings of his...she felt she knew the names of.

She'd seen his glances at her, the way he looked at her when she hadn't been looking at him. She'd seen the dazed look, the almost sick expression.

And she knew. She just wasn't sure how to even begin talking about it with him. She believed in honesty and openness very firmly - but even she was having trouble with seeing how she could have a discussion like that with Harry.

Regardless of difficulty, she would try. Today. Better sooner than later, she also believed in.

"Harry," she said softly, touching his face. "Time to get up."

Harry opened his eyes and blinked at her blearily. "Is this a dream?"

"No," she smiled. "I wondered the same thing, though. Come on now - up."

Harry nodded and reached for his glasses, getting up from the bed.

Nagini followed after him, clad in transfigured robes made for her by Dumbledore the other night (she'd given away her stolen wands to the Aurors - Pettigrew's and the Malfoys' all). She moved slowly so as not to wobble and fall right over (that would have been one of the most embarrassing things she could imagine). Having not had legs in decades made one terrible with them when one suddenly got them back. She hadn't missed legs all too much - but arms? Hands? She'd missed _those_ greatly.

No more waiting for others to open doors for her, and no more needing to boop charmed Hogwarts doors with her snout either (as helpful and appreciated as that had been for Dumbledore to do for her at the time).

Nagini hugged Harry, caressing his hair. The boy flushed deeply, but he also smiled, and he pressed himself to her - he let himself relax with her.

"We'll get you back to your dorm, and then we'll go have breakfast," Nagini told him. "I imagine today is going to be another busy day for both of us - the Aurors will want to do a thorough follow-up. And the media, too," she went on to explain. "Do you think you can handle that? I'll be right by your side, Harry, the whole time - but you don't even have to talk to the media if you don't want to. Though, the Aurors are required."

"I'll be fine with talking to the Aurors - but not the reporters," Harry replied, hesitant. "I really don't have to?"

"You really don't," Nagini said simply. She took his hand in hers, smiling. "Let's go."

* * *

"Quite understandably, the Christmas feast was missed out on by the pair of you," Dumbledore spoke, greeting Nagini and Harry in the entrance hall. "But I hope this morning's breakfast will be equally as belly-filling."

"Thank you, Albus," Nagini nodded. She gestured Harry toward the single table set up in the middle of the Great Hall, to where some of the staff were already seated - and some of the other students who had stayed for Christmas break as well.

She spotted Evelyn Milgrid, the one who had been put under an Imperius Curse by Lucius Malfoy - by proxy; a middle person Imperius'd, made to Imperius Evelyn in turn, in _chain_ \- but still, by him, ultimately. Whoever that middle person was...Nagini hoped they could find out who, so they could be helped through it all - Evelyn had said she couldn't remember seeing anyone aim a wand at her lately, and she'd never heard the word "Imperio" either, which suggested a silent casting.

Evelyn also didn't remember obtaining the enchanted, emergency jewelry portkeys either. Didn't remember how, or from where. Didn't even remember giving them to Harry and Nagini as gifts.

It only took a single look at Evelyn, and Nagini knew the girl would need a _lot_ of help processing her ordeal. Especially as there was still a lot of confusion involved there as to the specifics of her activities when she'd lost her mind and free will.

Just as Harry would need the help with his troubles, too.

But that would come later.

Not just yet.

Nagini did want to let Harry focus on the good, for right now; Harry's excitement and happiness at seeing her human again, and at Pettigrew having been caught red-handed, as it were. He deserved to not have to worry too much, and to not get so stressed and upset again, so soon after...

After all of that.

And Nagini didn't exactly want to make Harry remember it, either. Some selfish part of her. Some ashamed part of her. The same part as ever...

As soon as they'd seated themselves, Harry looked right to Evelyn across the table, stretching out his hand to her with palm up.

"Hey," he greeted the girl with a smile. "How're you feeling today?"

Evelyn glanced up from her lap, where a small black diary rested in her hands. She gazed back at Harry with dark eyes, her mouth open, like she couldn't believe he was even showing her any sort of kindness at all. Then she dropped her head, pushed away from the table and drifted away toward the entrance hall.

Harry frowned, withdrawing his hand and ducking his head.

Nagini squeezed Harry's hand firmly.

Dumbledore peered at Harry with a mix of pride and encouragement as he said, "Your friend will need her time to recover."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, cheeks a little flushed. "She's not exactly a..." He trailed off, then just gave a nod. "Right. I just...wanted her to know it wasn't her fault at all! It was all the Malfoys, it was Voldemort - sorry!" Harry added, as a few teachers and students winced horribly.

Dumbledore merely smiled at Harry, nodding to him. "How incredibly compassionate of you, Harry." He gave a slight pause, and a strange glance toward Professor Snape, who already had a strange look on his face. "Rather like your mother, you know - Lily."

"Yeah," Harry agreed with pride of his own. "Thank you, professor."

"Oh, think nothing of it, Harry," Dumbledore said lightly, his eyes twinkling.

Nagini eyed Severus Snape, whose strange look briefly flickered into something else...before becoming a smooth mask again. That something else was something she recognized well: pain of grief - sorrow. Regret and remorse, even...perhaps.

Snape caught her eye, and gave her a shrewd look before turning his focus to his meal that had just appeared on his plate.

_Hm._

After breakfast, the Aurors and media had been allowed into the castle - allowed to start _questioning._

They immediately questioned Nagini (as she'd requested Harry _not be_ ).

"How is it that you've returned to a human form after the curse of the Maledictus had long since set in you?"

Nagini eyed the Daily Prophet reporter in the Great Hall - maybe more sharply than she'd ever intended, because the man flinched and stepped back. She sighed, shaking her head and brushing her hair behind her ears. This was the most predictable question of all - and perhaps the most important of all, honestly. "I'm not sure, myself. An accident of magic - and a wonderful gift. A second chance, one in a million; it was all a fluke. I'm unsure if it could ever even be repeated."

"Is it true that you claim the deceased Malfoys, prominent, well respected members of society, were the ones responsible for yours and Harry Potter's abduction? And that they, working with Peter Pettigrew, were attempting to restore You-Know-Who to power again?"

Nagini nodded. "It's the truth of events - not just a claim. Peter Pettigrew's upcoming trial should answer all of your questions and more - as well as corroborate what Sirius Black testified to during _his_ , one month ago. I imagine the Ministry will want Harry and I to testify as witnesses to Pettigrew's, as well as young Draco Malfoy," she added evenly. "But until that date, I don't have any more to give you. Not that the Aurors are keen on letting me."

"With Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy both being deceased, yourself and Mr. Potter are the only ones we _can_ ask questions of concerning the events of yesterday. And the public has a _lot_ of questions," the man responded, resolute.

"The public will need to have patience," Nagini stated. "There's an active Auror investigation, and they don't want me compromising it by giving away too many details."

"Just one question, then. Is it true that the reason for your return to a human form was a ritual of a dark nature?"

"It was-" Nagini began.

Dumbledore stepped up to her, drawing all eyes. "The reason for her return was, as she said, a magical accident - with the backing of a power beyond _any_ magic, dark or otherwise. It was the will of souls and the bond between, and the immense love shared, that allowed her to return as she is now." He paused, his eyes straying to two dark robed mages off to the side with the Aurors. "I do believe, in the Department of Mysteries...that there is a certain room dedicated solely to studying this kind of incredible power..."

The two dark robed mages looked shocked. Their eyes strayed to Nagini, giving her intense looks of scrutiny. Then they regained composure, giving the reporters stern looks. "The Unspeakables can offer no comment on the matter," said a dark robed witch, clear and firm.

"Certainly not," Dumbledore agreed, with a wide smile on his face. "Forgive me; an old man is quite prone to forgetting the complexities of Ministry protocol."

* * *

"Harry...if you're feeling up to it, I think there are some things we need to talk about. But I'll understand if you don't want to just yet."

"What?" Harry looked at Nagini from across her private quarters with confusion - and wariness.

Maybe he didn't even understand it, himself, Nagini thought - or was that her giving him too little credit, after all this time? The only way to find out was to get it out in the open.

Nagini crossed her quarters and sat on the small bed - she hadn't gotten around to transfiguring it just yet into something bigger (and perhaps old habits died hard; a serpent's habits). She patted the space beside her, gazing at Harry.

He dutifully obeyed, shuffling over to her and sitting with her. "What?" he questioned again, a bit of irritation this time.

Nagini sighed. She took his hand and looked him in the eye. "Harry, I- I want to say sorry, first of all. I- I'm not a stranger to war, and death, but you are and...and I'm sorry you've had to be exposed to such things already. On Halloween, the third floor chamber, you watched me...kill. Viciously and violently. Voldemort and Quirrell alike. And we never talked about that. Whether you've been bothered by it, or just tried to forget it completely, or-"

"You saved my life!" Harry burst out, shaking his head at her furiously. "You protected me, I don't c-care how you had to do it! Besides it was Voldemort - what else were you going to do?"

Nagini gazed at him. "You might feel that way, and that's good - but I was a serpent at the time. Maybe, subconsciously, you haven't been as bothered by _that_ as I've noticed you have been since just last night...because I _was_ a serpent. And some tiny part of you saw that as more acceptable than what I did last night in front of you - as a human, with a wand. With my own hands."

"W-what? What're you even talking about?" Harry burst out, _angry_ now. "Do you think I'm upset with you or something for _saving me from Voldemort again?_ "

"No, I think you might be upset with me because I killed two human beings in front of you with magic - one, with the very same spell that was used to murder your parents. And that's _perfectly all right_ \- and I'm _so sorry_ that I did that, Harry. That you had to see it from me!"

Harry suddenly shoved at her and jumped to his feet, stalking away across the small room. "I d-don't, I'm not- you're just talking crazy! It's not like I think you're like Voldemort or something! It's not...you saved me! I don't care that you- k-killed... _I shouldn't care! It shouldn't bother me how you did it!_ "

"Yes it should," Nagini said simply, unmoving from her place on the bed. Harry kept his back to her, shaking shoulders and quivering breaths all she could glean from him. "Because it bothers me, too, Harry. It bothers me that you had to see it, that I made you watch that. And it bothers me...every time I do kill someone, even if I know it's for the rightest, truest reasons in the world. Taking a life, a soul, any normal person would feel terrible about it. Every single time. And I do, and it's fine if you do. It's more than acceptable. It's _normal_ and _human._ And doubly so because you're a _child_. Because-"

She hesitated. Then- "Because you're... _my_ child, Harry. I've cared for you and loved you for five years now, and now I've gone and done something as horrible as this to you. Made you see these things. And you never should have. No child should. And I can only apologize for it."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, and turned back to her. "I don't _want to blame you_! I don't want to- to hate you or- I don't want it to bother me. You saved me, you protected me again, you just... _I'm sorry,_ I'm sorry I can't stop feeling this way about it! I can't stop seeing it, I can't stop thinking- you know I dreamed about my parents, even before I knew. Maybe it was my magical brain, or my soul, or- or Voldemort's memory passed into me with his powers somehow...but I did. I always saw a flash of green, I always heard laughter. I heard it before I understood it..."

Harry shook his head and then grabbed it in hand, tears flowing. He squeezed his eyes tight. "I'm _sorry, I'm sorry_ -"

Nagini stood, swiftly moving to Harry. She took him into her arms and held him there, just standing in the middle of the room with him. Letting him press himself to her, letting him bury his face in her front, and letting him cry as much as he wanted. As much as he needed to.

"Whatever you feel is perfectly okay, it's perfectly fine and normal - even toward me. It's not wrong to have these feelings in you, Harry. It's never going to be - and I'm never going to be disappointed, or upset, or angry with you for it. I _understand, Harry._ It's okay. And I'm sorry."

* * *

The Ministry wanted it to be done with soon. The whole ordeal. The Malfoy's, Pettigrew, Sirius Black, rumors of Voldemort's near return - all of it.

An end to confusion and public outcry, and Ministry questioning by said public.

So it really worked in Nagini's and Harry's favor that they chose to fast-track Pettigrew's trial for the second week of January. But mostly Harry's.

Harry was what this was all about.

Nagini stood in the entrance hall, waiting for him in long open coat over nice pants and top - self-transfigured, with her new wand (bought for her generously by Dumbledore, after a trip to Diagon Alley two weeks ago now - though he had simply called it "doing an old friend a favor"). In her spare time, Nagini had been _very_ busy on her own these past two weeks now, working very closely with Dumbledore. There were a great many things she was looking into, trying to get set up - a job, an actual human home, etc. It was difficult, but if she could manage it...for Harry it would be worth it.

Harry emerged out of the Great Hall wearing his nicest set of muggle clothes (which Nagini had forced the Dursleys into buying for him some months ago now). It was only a simple pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt - but it _did_ look nice enough, still.

Nagini told him so, causing him to blush and beam at her in return for the compliment.

Dumbledore strode out behind Harry to join them, and together they set off for his office.

It was time to Floo to the Ministry, to participate in and witness the trial of Peter Pettigrew. Something to determine several things at once - Pettigrew's guilt or innocence, Sirius Black's, the truth of ten years ago on a Muggle street, and, more recently...to help conclude the investigation into the events surrounding Nagini and Harry, and the Malfoys and their battle damaged manor home.


	14. Trial And Meetings

Nagini stood from her seat in the Ministry courtroom, walking Harry out.

After several hours, after Pettigrew's own words of confession, after testimony from Nagini, Harry, and even Draco Malfoy and Evelyn Milgrid, the Wizengamot had rendered its verdict upon the man at the center of it all (and the only person they _had left_ to render any verdict on). That verdict was _guilty._

And with that verdict of guilty came acceptance of the truth of it all. The truth of Sirius Black's innocence; he was set to be released within the week, first to St. Mungo's, and then from there...to the free world again.

The verdict of guilty and truth also included the parts that most people didn't want to think about: mainly, just how close Voldemort had been to returning to terrorize the world again.

The Ministry department that dealt with ghosts and poltergeists had pledged to work with the Aurors and the Unspeakables to track down and try to contain or banish Voldemort's lingering soul - to stop him from making any further attempts at returning to power and form.

During the trial...perhaps fortune or coincidence, but certain people had been called to the trial for character witness questioning in regards to Pettigrew. Two people in particular: Remus Lupin, and a shackled Sirius Black (who also had the chance to reiterate his own account of things again, briefly, for all to hear in tandem with Pettigrew's self admissions).

Nagini stood with Harry as Remus Lupin came out into the corridor, and they met eyes.

"Do you want to talk to him now, or wait for another chance sometime later? We could send a letter asking about a visit..." Nagini spoke softly to Harry. "This might not be the best time - for either of you."

"Couldn't we just say hello?" Harry said quietly, a hint of pleading in there.

"We can do that; it might be ruder not to acknowledge him," Nagini decided. She let her hand slide off of Harry's shoulder and took the lead in striding up to Lupin. She pulled onto her face a smile she hadn't had the ability to use in decades, hoping it came across fine - and not incredibly strange or off-putting. Natural smiles, born of mirth and happiness when with Harry and Albus, seemed to be well and good - but trying one when she didn't feel it was still...elusive to her. Facial expressions in general seemed to be, she'd noticed of herself (and the staff at Hogwarts had commented).

"Remus Lupin," she spoke lightly, stopping before the man and offering a hand. "Nagini Siahaan. And this is Harry."

Lupin looked at her in surprise, but then he returned her smile, and took her hand, giving it a firm shake. But then his gaze strayed to Harry. Mixed emotions played over his features, pale and gaunt - almost sickly, the man appeared. "Ms. Siahaan; it's a pleasure to meet you. And Harry, it's...good to finally meet you in person. You look so- so much like...like James."

Nagini withdrew her hand tactfully, taking a single step aside and back.

"Hello," Harry greeted Lupin, a bit uncertain. It was different, Nagini supposed, exchanging letters versus meeting the man face to face. Especially after the emotional events of the courtroom - the wounds made fresh in this family, and with these friends. "I get that a lot," Harry added, with a bit of a sheepish grin. "Erm - I mean - how do you do, Mr. Lupin?"

"Please, just Lupin, Harry - I've asked you that in letters, and it applies now, too," the man answered casually, smiling. "I daresay James wouldn't have wanted us to be so formal with each other. James was always...well, the least formal person you could have met."

"Okay," Harry laughed (though whether it was genuine or just politeness Nagini had tried to instill in him, she really couldn't tell). "Lupin."

"After the events of today," Lupin began, answering Harry's question. "I feel confident in saying I'm feeling...more hopeful than I have in a very long time. How are _you_ feeling about all of this, Harry?"

"I'm just glad my godfather is going to be free," Harry replied. "And that the real person who betrayed my parents - the one who framed him - is finally going to get locked away."

"Yes," Lupin said, with a breath of sheer relief, as if he'd only just realized it. He looked to Nagini again, and he moved for her, reaching to take her hand again. He clasped it firmly, shaking it. "And I have you to thank for this, Ms. Siahaan. For all of this; the truth about Pettigrew, Sirius's freedom, and more importantly - for many years now - Harry's happiness and wellbeing. I- I had no idea- if I had _I_ would have been the one to- but I-"

Nagini covered Lupin's hand in both of hers, holding his gaze up close. "I think we all have a lot of things we regret - especially recently. But I think we should just accept them, and move forward. There's no use in letting ourselves get caught up in them now. Choices were made, and whether they're mistakes or not, whether we knew or not...it's done with. I'll tell you what I plan to tell Sirius Black as well: Harry and I aren't going to blame you for anything - or judge you."

Lupin looked a bit shocked, then he nodded and gave her a sincere smile. "Yes, well, thank you, Ms. Siahaan. That's incredibly...kind of you. Too kind for me."

Nagini let him go. "Actually, I was thinking it was just kind enough."

"I-" Lupin began.

"Remus. Harry...?"

Nagini turned, and she instinctively set a hand on Harry's shoulder as the Aurors emerged from the courtroom with Sirius Black.

Innocent he might've been proclaimed today, whoever was in charge of him hadn't done a good job making the man look presentable. And then there was the man himself, the way he looked, even in his state of perpetual shock and daring hopes...

Ten years in Azkaban would do a great deal of damage to anyone's mind and soul.

Nagini had glimpsed it, in that moment before Black's eyes had found Remus and Harry together - before it had shifted to overwhelming happiness and relief.

Overwhelming, but not all-consuming...

"Sirius," Remus addressed the man, unmoving. His voice held a dozen different emotions at once. In that one word, a thousand things were said - and likely not said.

"H-hi," Harry said clearly, giving Black a wave and a grin.

 _Harry can be so brave sometimes - and_ cheeky, thought Nagini, amused and amazed alike.

Black blinked at Harry, smiling back perhaps out of sheer social instinct. Or maybe he, like Nagini, had to remember to force himself to do such a simple thing. Either way, it didn't look right on his face. Didn't look natural or easy. "Harry, I-"

One of the Aurors gave Black a tug of an arm, firmly steering him further down the hall. "Come on, Black. Innocent or not, we have protocols to follow - no talking to anyone outside the courtroom."

Black looked stricken. He looked ready to fight that - to argue it. Then his eyes found Harry again, and he deflated. He nodded silently, and allowed himself to be pulled away from them.

"I'll write you another letter before you're let out!" Harry called after the man passionately.

Black looked back over a shoulder, looking plain touched by the sentiment. And for a brief moment then, he did smile a genuine smile. Light and true. He gave Harry a nod, and faced forward again.

"You really are the best of your parents," Lupin spoke quietly, staring at Harry with wonder. "They'd be very proud of you."

"Thank you!" Harry said, positively glowing.

Nagini gave Lupin a nod over Harry - and a small smile. This man really had been good for Harry, having those letters, that connection to his parents; and if they could begin seeing each other in person now, Lupin would be even better for Harry.

It was something she would have to ask the man about later - now wasn't the time (it might come off as pressuring, or putting Lupin on the spot in front of Harry).

"Well, it was nice to meet you at last," Nagini addressed Lupin in the sincerest tone she could express.

He nodded to her. "And you, as well. Harry's very lucky to have someone like you in his life."

Lupin departed down the corridor, in the same direction the Aurors had taken Sirius Black (maybe he was hoping to get another glimpse of his now-known-to-be-innocent friend, if he could).

Nagini gave glance to Harry, and saw a brilliant smile on the boy's face.

She was happy _he_ was. Today had been a day of triumphs, hadn't it?


	15. Friendship Is Magic

After winter break had ended and school lessons resumed, Harry approached Evelyn in the common room, when the girl emerged out of the first year girls' dormitory one rare evening in middle of the first week back.

If Evelyn had been averse to people before, it was a hundred times worse as of late; as January went on, Harry barely even saw her around anymore, and hardly ever saw her talking to anyone else either. This included teachers and prefects, and included absence from the classrooms - he suspected she was just flat out skipping a lot of her lessons lately.

And Harry was determined to do something about it for her.

"Hey - Evelyn," he greeted her.

She glanced at him, but continued on past him all the same.

Harry started after her. "Look, I know it wasn't your fault - it was a spell, it was dark magic. I know you never-"

Evelyn stopped, causing Harry to nearly bump into the back of her chair. "I almost got you _killed_ ," she responded, with utmost distress. "I sent you to get...to get _executed - by You-Know-Who!_ "

"Only because Malfoy's father forced you to!" Harry exclaimed, striding around her to try and get a look at her face.

But Evelyn had her head down again, her long black hair hiding her. She had that little black diary in her lap again (Harry supposed it was good to be able to write about your troubles in life, but wasn't it even better to be able to talk about them with _other people?_ ). "I still did it..." she muttered out. "And I never want to do it again."

"You won't," Harry assured. "I know how that spell works - the Imperius. How most magic works. With Malfoy's father being...d-dead, the spell broke over you, right? And it had to have broken over whoever put it on you, too. Whoever else was...under his control. So there's nothing to be afraid of anymore!" he finished hurriedly.

Evelyn sat there for a long time, motionless. "But You-Know-Who is still out there - so are a lot of other Death Eaters who might help him get to you. What if they use me again?" she murmured tonelessly.

"I won't let that happen ever again!" Harry said fiercely, reaching for her hand. His fingers brushed over that black diary of hers, and a jolting sensation shot through his arm, shocking him a moment. But he put it from his mind and focused on Evelyn. "Listen, why don't you come be with me and my friends? I hardly ever see you talking to anyone, and I bet it'd be nice. And, if you had three other people around you, we could all make sure nothing strange happens to you again! We'd know if it ever did again, and we'd keep you safe, Evelyn. What do you say?"

Her head came up at last. She stared at him blankly. Then, she nodded, her lips a frown. "Alright. Sure."

Harry smiled at her, relieved. He hadn't really expected to get through to her - for her to take him up on the invitation of friendship! But he was glad she had. "Well, come on then!" He led her to the study table where his friends were. He moved his chair over and sat down with them, making a space for Evelyn.

She drifted up next to him - gave her finger a few taps against the left arm of her chair, causing it to sink a few inches down so that she was properly level with the table. She set her hands in her lap again, right over that diary of hers, and gave a great sigh.

"Hello," Susan greeted her, light and casual - and with a big smile. "I'm really glad you could join us."

Tamara signed at Evelyn, animated as could be, an enthusiastic grin on her face. "Hi. It's nice to get to talk to you finally," her monotonous assistive voice issued. "I haven't seen you in any lessons lately, you know - and you're always going to bed so early."

Evelyn looked down into her lap. She shrugged. "I know..." she mumbled.

"You really must be falling behind," Susan said. "Do you want help catching up?"

"No - I have detentions for that," Evelyn responded, her cheeks flushing.

"We could play a game, then," Tamara signed. She reached into her bag and pulled out a deck of cards.

"How do you have an Exploding Snap pack?" Susan questioned. "You're a muggleborn!"

"One of the seventh year girls gave it to me," Tamara answered, and gave an airy wave of a hand after. "Do you want to play or not?"

"I'll play," Harry said instantly.

"Of course I'll play with you," Susan replied.

Evelyn nodded, briefly meeting Tamara's eye. "I'll...play too."

Tamara beamed at her. "Great," she signed with enthusiasm. "So are you like me, or are you like Susan?"

"You mean am I a pureblood or a muggleborn? Or a half blood?" Evelyn responded quietly. "I'm half blood. My mum is a witch, my dad isn't magic at all. He didn't know what mum was until my letter came - or what I was either. Mum always made me keep it a secret with her; they met when I was six..."

Harry stared at Evelyn, much as the other two girls were. "Why would she make you do that? Didn't she trust your dad to tell him the truth earlier?"

"I guess not..." Evelyn murmured, looking away. She picked her diary up in her lap, beginning to turn it over and over absently. "That's why I didn't go home for Christmas. It's...tense. It was tense when I left last summer to start school here. I didn't want to be in the middle of it again."

Evelyn looked to Tamara, and muttered out quickly, "How do you even do anything in classes if you can't talk? Besides essays, I mean?"

Tamara's eyes flickered about Evelyn's head, then she smiled and signed back at her, "I've been learning silent spellcasting the past few months with the help of Flitwick; I think the incantations. But for me they still aren't vocal words - they're gestures, signs. The magical world has its own variations of sign languages, and thankfully they all include common and popular spells. Flitwick thinks I've gotten good enough at it by now that I can start trying it in normal classes, so I'll be able to actually participate in lessons with you all soon - besides potions, astronomy and herbology, of course."

"I still can't believe you're actually doing that," Susan expressed with admiration. "We don't learn that kind of thing until sixth year! But you're trying to do it in your first - _and_ you're muggleborn."

"I'm used to working hard to be able to get through life," Tamara signed, with a small grin. A pointed wave of her hands in Susan's face. "Whatever I have to do, I'll do my best to do it. Magic makes a lot of it easier, but some of it is still really difficult; Silent casting is daily, constant practicing, but I'll do that too. Until I can be a real witch, with real magic."

Tamara set the deck in the middle of the table, running a hand through her hair. "Can we play now or what?" she asked, an eyebrow raised as her hands moved in an almost flippant manner.

Harry and the others nodded, and Tamara began dealing out the cards to them with precision and concentration.

Evelyn heaved her shoulders, gave a big sigh, and she sat up straighter in her seat. She stowed that diary of hers away at last in her bag, which was secured to the side of her chair by looping straps.

As they played together, Harry was pleased to see Evelyn smile a few times - here and there. The smallest, briefest things, but he did see them.


	16. Getting Things In Order

"Before I go to the Ministry, there are things we should talk about. I want to know how you feel about it all."

Nagini sat down with Harry on the bed in her quarters, on an early morning in late January. She took a savored drink of coffee before setting the mug down on the nearby hovering tray - a wave of her wand and an absent thought sent it drifting away.

"Even with your godfather being free now, he's still not in any right state to raise a child," Nagini continued on, seeing that she had Harry's undivided attention. "It's only been two weeks, and he's still at St. Mungo's; he might be there for months - I don't know, I'm not a healer or a doctor. But I do know that he's not ready yet to give you the kind of home, the kind of care you need - that every child needs. So, I still feel as if I should try and do this for you. But I'd like to make sure you're okay with this before I do, Harry. Your feelings matter, too. And if you'd rather I didn't - if you'd rather wait for your godfather to recover, to see if he wants to be the one to take you into his care, to adopt you as his child - then I'll be fine with not even starting this process for you. Do you want me to?"

"Of course I want you to!" Harry said instantly, firmly. "I- I _know you,_ I don't know _him._ Not really. I know my parents trusted him, liked him and all, and he was my dad's best friend, but...what else do I even know? What do _you_ know?" he finished, gazing at her intently. "I- I've been with you for five years already, and I don't want that to just change all of a sudden! I _love_ you...I don't even know if I can _like_ him. What if we just don't get along, him and me?"

Nagini nodded, watching Harry in silence a minute - making sure he didn't have anything else he wanted to add (and, privately, she might have been a little speechless at his outright declaration of love for her in that way, so passionate but so casually done). "You'd rather stay with who you know, versus taking a risk with someone you don't," she finally said.

"I- I guess?" Harry agreed, nodding back.

"Then I won't make you take that risk," Nagini told him. "If you want me to be your parent, if you want your home to stay...with me...then that's where it will stay. It will be _our home._ But, Black _is_ your godfather, and it wouldn't be wrong to allow him to visit us - to get to know us, and for us to get to know him in turn."

"I'm okay with _that,_ " Harry said quickly. "Just not...I don't _know him_! Not enough to want him to be- to be like a _parent_ to me!" he went on, almost panicked. Almost afraid. He looked at her like he might have gone too far.

"And that's fine too," Nagini assured him simply. "I'll go to the Ministry later today, then, with Albus; we'll start this for you, if you really want it." _If you want it to be me._

"Really?" Harry stared at her with wide eyes.

"Harry, have I ever lied to you?" she responded calmly.

"No - thank you!" Harry threw himself into her chest and hugged her fiercely.

 _He really does, then._ Nagini hugged Harry back, allowing herself to smile. "Alright. Well, I'll need to visit your aunt and uncle, then. The way I intend on doing this, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle - we won't have to deal much with the Ministry, or courts. It should be quick and easy enough."

"Probably," Harry said. "I'm sure my aunt and uncle will be _happy_ to sign me away to someone else."

"Probably," Nagini agreed quietly. _And that despicable behavior of theirs is what I'm counting on to make this go smoothly for you, Harry._

* * *

Sirius Black being ready or not, willing or not, Nagini still felt it was best to get ahead of things.

With him, and with Remus Lupin.

Nagini hadn't seen either man since the trial, two weeks ago now. But she intended to visit both, now and today.

While at the Ministry earlier today with Dumbledore, where she had spent long hours talking to Department officials and obtaining important parental transfer forms, she had asked Dumbledore if he knew how to contact Lupin - and moreover, if he knew where the man lived.

Dumbledore had told her, very seriously, that Lupin had had a very difficult life; the man was always moving, and was currently out of a job (in contrast to Nagini, who had finally just _gotten_ a job in the last two weeks - as a hired wand for dangerous beast control and extermination around the forests and mountains of northern Scotland).

And then Dumbledore had told her where he knew Lupin to be staying, at present.

It was this place that Nagini apparated right to, straight from the Ministry, keeping the name in her mind.

_Brinsburg Cottage, Galloway Forest._

Nagini reappeared in the middle of nowhere - and the middle of nature. A clearing, very small and circular. Perfectly circular. The clearing edge was surrounded by tall tees of evergreen, tightly packed - and all she could see in any direction.

A chilly breeze blew over her, and the smells of the trees and earth filled her nose.

Nagini spied the cottage - a bit run down, overgrown and the wood splintered here and there. It didn't look like it was much more than a one bedroom place.

She strode for the front door, and gave a solid knock on its wooden surface.

The door opened quite quickly, and Remus Lupin stood before her. Wide eyed with shock as he took her in.

Nagini looked him over in return; he looked a great deal worse than he had just two weeks ago. He had bags under his eyes, his pallor had become ghostly, and his left hand on the doorframe had a small tremor to it.

"I'm terribly sorry for my appearance - wasn't expecting guests," Lupin began quickly, embarrassed.

"No, I'm sorry," Nagini replied. "I should have sent word that I was coming beforehand. If this is a bad time, I can come back later."

"No! Please, come in, Ms. Siahaan - would you like some tea?" Lupin stepped back and gestured in.

"Water will be fine - thank you." Nagini stepped inside the cottage, and followed Lupin through a tiny sitting room, into an equally as tiny kitchen.

Lupin filled a glass and handed it to her, then got one for himself.

They sat down together at a small table, rickety and rounded.

"So, why exactly have you come all this way to visit me?" Lupin said curiously. "Is it something to do with Harry?"

"It is," Nagini confirmed. She took a sip of her water, clasping it in both hands before herself on the table top. "It's also about Sirius Black. As his best friend, as the best friend of Harry's parents, I was hoping I could talk to you about him. And about how he might factor into Harry's future."

"Of course," Lupin said, giving a small smile. "I'll be happy to answer any questions you have about him - and Harry's parents, as well."

"Of course," Nagini said, twisting her lips into a forced smile of her own. "I appreciate this."

"It's no trouble," Lupin said lightly. "I'd like to do whatever I can for Harry and yourself, however small."

"I'm happy to hear that. Firstly, I'd like to know..." Nagini began carefully.

* * *

After an extremely productive, and informative, conversation with Lupin, Nagini apparated to her next stop.

Her final stop of the day.

A place she hadn't been in months now.

A place she would only be back at for a short time.

And then never again.

Nagini strode up the path of Number Four, Privet Drive, and gave a hard wrap on the door.

It opened promptly, cautiously.

Petunia Dursley gazed at her with distaste, unrecognizing her. But Nagini had spent five years with this woman, and she knew well the reason for Petunia's _distaste_ needed nothing personal; Petunia had only ever known Nagini as a serpent, not as a human woman. A very _foreign_ woman. "Can I help you?" Petunia greeted her shortly.

"Yes, you can." Nagini stepped forward. "And for once in your life, you can help Harry too."

"Who are-"

"It's Nagini."

Petunia curled her lip at her. "You expect me to believe-"

"Well, I could prove it to you - right here on your front porch," Nagini interrupted. "Or you could let me in."

Petunia's lip curled further, her eyes widening - her gaze sweeping up and down the street. "All right, fine! Come in."

Nagini crossed the threshold; Petunia shut the door with a _snap_ behind her, and rounded on her with her arms crossed.

"You're one of _them_ , aren't you? What could you want to talk about the boy for? What's he done? Are you expelling him from that school - sending him back to us?" the woman rattled out furiously.

"No."

"Then _why_ are you here? Quit wasting my time and-"

Nagini transformed into her serpent's body, and then reverted back in a single second.

Petunia stared with a pale face and wide eyes, her hands clutching at her chest. At least she hadn't screamed. "You- you..."

Nagini took a single step forward, holding the woman's gaze with dark, narrowed eyes. "Harry was always telling the truth."

"B-but you- then- then I didn't just have to entertain _one_ good for nothing freeloader, but _two!_ " Petunia burst out, glaring as best she could. "All this time, I had some _woman_ in my house?!"

"Someone had to be there for Harry," Nagini said simply. "It was never you, and it was never going to be you."

"How dare you! You come into my house, you spend _years_ squatting in it, and you want to disrespect me to my face about that lousy child-"

Nagini drew her wand, and Petunia cut herself off with a terrible flinch, reeling back down the hall.

"Don't you hurt my family, you filthy witch!" Petunia screeched, terror in her eyes.

"Where is your family?"

"Away," Petunia said quickly, relief on her face at the truth of the statement.

"While my situation was complicated - I was trapped in that form," Nagini began, clear and quiet. "I didn't stay in your house for five years because I didn't have one of my own. If I'd wanted that, I would have chosen any abandoned house for myself. I stayed here for five years for _Harry._ "

"Then you wasted five years of your miserable existence," Petunia scoffed. "Just like I've wasted ten on that freak."

Nagini took another step, half raising her wand.

Petunia froze, her eyes on the wand.

"How can you be so disgusting?" Nagini hissed. "So cruel? To a child? To your own _nephew?_ Your sister's son! Your _dead sister's son!_ And you've treated him like nothing but a burden, but a piece of garbage! You've yelled at him, insulted him, abused him and neglected him for _years!_ "

"I never asked for him! I never wanted him in this house!"

"Then you should have given him to someone who did! Not kept him and used him as a dog to kick! An innocent boy, a child!"

"You don't-"

"I don't _what?_ " Nagini spat, striding forward. "Did you already forget that I was here for _five years?_ I saw everything you ever did, I heard everything you ever said about him - even the things that weren't to his face."

Petunia backed away swiftly, her back hitting the wall. "You can't- don't you dare-"

"I can do anything I want," Nagini said softly. "And I want to do...so much to you right now." She drew a breath, and let it go in a quaver. "You know...for the last five years...do you know what I wanted to do _all that time?_ "

"N-no..."

"I wanted nothing more...than to be able to hug Harry, to kiss him, to _love him_ \- to give him all the attention and affection that any decent, loving parent should. That any child needs. But I never could. I couldn't do the things that I wanted to do the most in life, every moment of every day I spent with him - _for him._ All the things _you_ should have been doing for him all these years!"

"It would've been wasted on him! He's just a-"

Nagini shoved her face in Petunia's, making the woman flinch and turn her head away. "I've heard _enough_ out of you. And so has Harry."

"Then why are you here? Why come back here?"

"To make sure Harry never has to come back here again," Nagini responded. She stepped back and waved her wand; the Ministry forms appeared in the air, and she snatched them out of it and shoved them into Petunia's chest. "These are papers saying that you're willingly giving up all parental rights and responsibilities - or so they _assume_ , in your case - and handing them over to _me._ Someone who will actually take care of, and _love_ Harry. You're going to sign them, and then we're never going to see each other again."

Petunia pushed off from the wall. She gave the papers a once over, then strode away down the hall toward the kitchen. "Fine; I'll sign them - and then you and that wretched boy never set foot in my house again." Nagini followed her, watching Petunia retrieve a pen and slap the papers down on the table; Petunia scribbled viciously across the lines of each, then she stepped away and glared at Nagini in full. "There - now get out!"

"How much did you hate your sister, to treat her son like this? Even after her death?" Nagini said harshly. "To sign those like it's nothing, no hesitation? And - from the moment he was brought into this house as a one year old baby - to never once treat him kindly? Did you never once feel anything for him besides contempt?"

Petunia's expression flickered. Then she set her jaw, her eyes becoming slits. " _Get out! Now!_ _I won't stand here and listen to some freakish woman insulting me about my own sister - using her against me like this!_ "

"You insult yourself, and you insult her and her memory by abusing her son," Nagini replied. "A boy who was trusted to you - that was a mistake, and it cost Harry a great deal of his childhood. I just hope I can do my best to give him the rest of it. Every bit of it he deserves."

" _Leave, now!_ " Petunia shouted. "Or I'll c-call the police!"

"The police would get here, and then they'd turn around and walk away, thinking it was nothing but a prank call," Nagini said casually. "You can't escape from what you've done to that child all these years, Petunia. I'm not going to let you. I'm not only going to make sure Harry is loved, and happy, and safe, but that _you_ get properly punished for everything you did to him. You'll go to prison, and your husband too. And if you try to kill yourself...that's not going to get you away from it, either; let me tell you a secret: there is an afterlife. Souls go on, or remain behind as ghosts. When you die, you'll have to answer to your sister and her husband themselves."

Petunia looked utterly shaken - and trapped. Caged. "Y-you can't...I did nothing _wrong_ to that boy! Nothing he didn't-"

"You did _everything wrong._ " Nagini cut across fiercely. "There isn't a single good thing you did for Harry - nothing I didn't have to come in and _force you to do for him_ , anyway. And even then, you did it like it was the hardest thing in the world for you."

"You have your papers...take the boy...get out. But don't you try and hand him back to me when he starts becoming too much to handle!"

"Harry's never been too much to handle. He's always been sweet, and kind, and beautiful, and smart, and talented...and wonderful. You should have been treating him like he _is_ , not how you did instead."

"Leave. Now!"

Nagini eyed the woman a moment longer. "Even as a snake, I _still_ did more for Harry than you. I was still there for him more than you ever were, in all the ways I could be. That's the difference between us: I _tried._ I've tried with everything I have for that child - but you _never_ even tried."

That said, Nagini flicked her wand to Vanish her papers into non-being, then she disapparated with a deliberate, explosive _crack_ like a gunshot going off.

Now that her work on that front was done, and now that she had a job (thank Albus for helping her acquire the membership license), the only piece left to put into place for Harry was...a house.


	17. A Place To Call Home

Two visits to the Ministry and a private hearing later - with Harry along for it all - and it was set in stone.

The legal status and bond between Nagini and Harry, was now set: the status of family, of a mother and a son. Official and legal.

On the very first day of February (which happened to be a Saturday), Nagini went to retrieve _her son_ from the Hufflepuff dormitories. Her Harry. While the both of them were _happy_ about this official cementing of relationship and bond now...it was still going to take some time to settle into - for the both of them.

Harry came huffing and puffing with his trunk dragged out the common room exit, into the corridor.

Nagini gave her wand a flick, and with a string of thought - incantations - the trunk became light as a feather, and lifted up off the floor to hover beside Harry.

Harry stared. Amazement and relief - and gratitude - on his face. "Thanks!"

"You're welcome." Nagini held out her hand - Harry hurried to take it. "Let's go now."

"Where exactly are we going?" Harry asked, as they began to walk through the corridors (his trunk floating along behind them).

"It's best not to say - not here," Nagini spoke quietly. "You'll just have to see."

"Right." Harry nodded; Nagini was confident he understood the dangers - several people recently had infiltrated Hogwarts, and even managed to get Harry out of it to someplace else. Who even knew who else Voldemort was using, whether former follower or unwilling participant? Where Harry was concerned...it couldn't be assumed. Even formless and weak, Voldemort was still a dangerous man - and a cunning one. Nagini was _not_ going to underestimate the man hellbent on murdering... _her son._

Nagini walked Harry through the halls, out of the entrance hall into the sun of warming days. It was a bit of a leisurely stroll down from the castle - past the main gates.

She Vanished his trunk, there, and then disapparated, taking him along with her.

They reappeared in the countryside, of hills and plains, before a small house. Flat and wide, and square.

Nagini pulled Harry inside, into a cozy, warm sitting room with fireplace already crackling gently.

Harry looked around, taking the place in. "This is where we'll be staying?" he spoke softly.

"It is - I know it's small, but magic can change that if you'd like some extra room," Nagini replied swiftly, in a rare moment of self-consciousness.

"If it's just the two of us, I don't see why we'd need more room," Harry answered. "I think it's great how it is, anyway!"

"I'm happy you think so." Nagini smiled at him, gave his hair a stroke and a kiss to his head. "But I think you'll want the space for when your friends start coming over - visits, sleepovers. And when you get older, you'll need more room in general; I made that mistake with you when you were six, thinking that cramped bedroom at Privet Drive was good enough. You kept growing, and by the time you were eleven...it didn't seem so big anymore. I'm sorry for that. Being so small myself all the time - everything looked really spacious to me. I didn't really realize..."

"It's okay! I love it!" Harry said quickly. "You can just magic up more space if I ever _do_ need it."

Nagini nodded. "Why don't I do that for you right now - that way, you'll have the space for later. And I'm sure you'll find some use for it all in the near future, too, since we'll be Floo-ing here every weekend from here on out." She pointed to the fireplace, indicating; she'd gotten it connected not only to the Ministry's Floo network, but Albus had also allowed her to connect it directly to his office's fireplace as well.

"Err - okay!" Harry said, nodding with enthusiasm.

Nagini led him to the nearest door - wide open, looking into a bedroom. _His_ bedroom. Even furnished, to her it still looked painfully bare; she planned to take Harry shopping to fix that soon. But, back to the problem at hand: She aimed her wand into it, and focused; the room suddenly expanded outward, becoming a dozen feet wider than it had been.

"Thank you!" Harry enthused, giving her a swift, unexpected - but very pleasant - hug.

"You're very welcome."

Harry hesitated, suddenly glancing down with flushed cheeks. "You'd really let me bring my friends here?"

"Of course I would."

"I've never been able to do that before." Harry paused, then grinned. "But I've never had real friends before Hogwarts, either."

That kind of self-deprecation from an eleven year old boy was concerning to Nagini - but also somewhat expected. So she chose to let it be.

"Would you like your room to be another color?" Nagini said. "I've never been the best at household spells - I don't really know very many - but I think I can do most of the ones I know well enough," she added honestly.

"It might look nice in blue," Harry shrugged.

"Blue it is, then." Nagini focused, bringing her wand up before her and holding it rigid. She extended her arm toward the corner of the room, and she thought the proper incantation for the job. She began a slow, gliding movement from left to right, and rippling blue paint formed on the wall - from top to bottom - in a line. As she moved her wand, it swept over the wall and began to set almost instantly. Not all of it did, though, leaving blue streaks and lines down the wall.

"I knew it wouldn't turn out well," Nagini remarked, laughing and shaking her head at her own poor work. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"I could try and help you with it!" Harry said quickly.

"You can give it a try," Nagini nodded, smiling at him. She told him the incantation. "And the position and motion of your wand is important," she went on. "It's not a slashing gesture: it's a slow, steady gliding motion. As if you were, oh, using an actual paint roller."

Harry bit his lip and took out his wand, holding it the way Nagini was. Then he spoke the spell and made the motion; dark blue paint streamed from the end of his wand to splash on the floor.

"You moved too fast - too sudden - and if you were focusing more on your wand than the wall...that would be why it didn't appear properly up there," Nagini said, holding in amusement. She waved her own wand to vanish the mess. "You can try again if you want."

Harry did, and the paint formed on the wall this time - as it had for Nagini. And then it burst outward in a big bubble when Harry's hand jerked, splashing onto both of them (though, Nagini more than Harry himself). "Oops - sorry!" he exclaimed, staring at Nagini with sheer horror. "I was still focusing on-"

"It's okay," Nagini said with a laugh. She gave herself a glance over. "All you did was show me that this outfit wouldn't look too bad in blue..."

Harry relaxed a hair, but he was still cringing away from her - perhaps unconsciously. "I really, really didn't meant to-" he began hurriedly.

Nagini gave her wand a flick, casting out a stream of paint all over Harry's front.

"Hey!" Harry burst out, wide eyed.

"Now we're both blue," Nagini told him with a small grin. "You could use a little more blue in your hair, though..."

Harry stared at her, and then a little grin crept over his face too. "Yeah? Well you could use some more blue on you too!" Harry jabbed his wand at her and cried the incantation, and paint blasted Nagini in the face.

Nagini flourished her wand, and an invisible bucket's worth spilled down on Harry's head.

Harry was quick to get out from under it all, and he jumped back across the room and waved his wand at her in return, imitating her wand motions of a moment ago.

Nagini was surprised but pleased when a substantial volume of paint drenched her hair and shoulders. She fired back at Harry; he ducked under it and it ended up splashing all over the bed. Harry was quick as before to get back at her - impressively for his age, his reflexes and precision!

The paint fight left the bedroom and took to greater heights - the rest of the house. They battled, spraying the walls and covering the furniture without care, shrieking and laughing with joy and mirth in abandon!

The sitting room, the kitchen - and then Harry ducked outside, into the breeze and the grass.

Nagini chased him out, and she watched him race around the side of the house - hoping to ambush her with a face-full of paint, probably. Well, she could be clever too...

Nagini transformed into her serpent's form, her joy only momentarily being dampened by the rising anxiety and fear of, _what if I can't change back again?_

She moved swiftly around the house in a wide arc, reverting to Harry's left and catching him in the side with a quick blast of paint.

"H-hey - that's not fair!" Harry cried, whirling around and raising a hand to block her even as he shot back at her.

"Become an Animagus and it will be," Nagini replied, casting an absent shield charm to form a passive wall of shimmering air between them.

Harry stared at her through the shield. " _That's_ not fair either," he said, laughing.

"You learned the charm well enough yourself in Defense, didn't you?" Nagini answered. She raised her wand, giving a little wave. "Give it a try, Harry; I'm sure you can make it work here for you."

Harry nodded and focused, then he waved his wand. "Protego!"

A little shimmer formed in front of Harry in a half circle, as tall as he was himself.

"I've done it again!" Harry said, immensely proud of himself.

"You have - very good job," Nagini said. "Now let's see how it stands up to this..."

She cast through her one-way shield, and Harry's properly repelled her blast of paint, reflecting back and down onto the grass.

"It's a good cast," she spoke warmly. "Very sturdy, very-"

Harry darted out from behind his shield and aimed for her legs, coating her lower half with a cry of glee and triumph.

Nagini cast back at him, forcing him to retreat behind safety.

And with that, their game had reached a new height.

They went on for a solid hour or two, running around, darting in and out of shields, until they were both incredibly tired out.

And coated in ungodly amounts of dried paint.

Nagini figured it was the perfect time to show Harry the restroom. After doing so, she gave her wand a wave to clean most of him up, and then left him to take care of the rest via shower (he needed one today anyway, she told him lightly). Then, she went about the house giving it a much more intensive cleaning job - it took many castings in repetition to eliminate it all, but she managed it.

Harry emerged from the bath right as she was about to start preparing for dinner in the modest kitchen. His robes still had some stains and spots on them; Nagini gave her wand a flick in his direction to finish the job with an intensive cleaning charm.

"Thank you," Harry said brightly. He looked around the kitchen, then at her. "Are you...going to make something?"

"I'm going to try," Nagini admitted. "We have several options - what would you like? Come on, come have a look." She beckoned him forward; he obeyed her happily, excitement shining on his face as he took in the sight of the filled shelves and cabinets.

In the end, Harry chose a simple meal for them - steak and potatoes. Knowing Harry, Nagini thought he was probably trying to just make it easier on _her_ ; she went along with it without comment. He'd made the choice, no matter what reason, so that was what she'd do for him.

Nagini reflected that she _really_ needed to learn homely magics; she might have known combat magic like the back of her hand (dark magic included), but this was an area where she was woefully inadequate. And ignorant. Mostly, purposefully so, she admitted to herself - she had never payed too much attention to her parents in that regard...focusing instead on magic more aimed at...

Well, it just wasn't her area of expertise.

But, with Harry now, with this house now of theirs, Nagini would _make herself_ an expert in this kind of magic. The better to care for him. The better to care for her Harry - for her adopted _son_ (it still shocked her to realize such a thing).

That was something else that she had never payed attention to her parents about - Nagini had never dreamed too much about family, about a nice home and children running around her legs. Even as a little girl, she'd known firmly that the domestic life wasn't of interest to her.

It still wasn't, honestly; but Nagini was _trying_ , for Harry. With everything she had and then some.

Harry deserved it all.


End file.
